Revealing Hidden Truths
by rantandrumour
Summary: Sequel to Secrets of the Past. Gene has an idea of who Lexi really is, but how can he confirm it without looking like an idiot? He faces this question and more as he meets people that he never expected or wanted to meet again on his journey for the truth
1. Old Nightmares Can Still Haunt

**So, there was a poll on my page, and it was 14-nil to write a sequel to Secrets of the Past. If you have not read that one, you need to read it, else you won't understand whats going on! :P Thanks to Rolephant for all her encouragement! **

**_Whats gone on before: After Alex was shot in Manchester, she found herself thrust into ten year old Gene's life. Whilst Gene Hunt was remembering his childhood in 1982, telling her about it, she was experiencing it. After she had woken, Gene found an old letter from Lexi in his desk. He seemed to realise who she was, but did he really?_  
**

**Chapter One: Old Nightmares Can Still Haunt**

_The day dawned bright and warm. Gene woke that morning in an extremely good mood. He didn't know why, Dad was getting more drunk than ever. There was hardly a time where he wasn't completely pissed, swearing and beating. For some reason though, this didn't bother Gene as much anymore. Sure, he still got beaten to a bloody pulp at least once a month, but he had Lexi. _

_Lexi had come into his life over four years previously. She had been his constant, the one thing that kept him from throwing himself in the river. No matter how shit the world seemed to be, Lexi could always seem to brighten it up. She was a bit strange, it was true, just because of the way she treated him._

_Ever since the first day he had talked to Lexi, she had treated him like she knew him. When she was in their house recovering for the few months after he had found her, she seemed to pick him out of the rest of the family to talk to, even though she was over twenty years his senior. _

_Gene didn't mind though. There was something about Lexi that drew him to her. Something in her kindly smile, in her hazel eyes. Gene was planning on seeing her today. It was the perfect day to go out, warm, but not too warm, even though it was the middle of July. Maybe they could go out and sit by the river. Gene liked to sit by the river. There was something about the water rushing by always soothed him._

_He walked downstairs, and Mam was making breakfast. Dad's snores could be heard throughout the house. Mam quietly set the food in front of Gene and his younger brother Stu, and finally served a plate for herself. _

"_What are you doin' today, Gene?" she asked quietly, although she always seemed to know what he planned to do before he had even planned it._

"_I'm gonna go see Lexi," he said. She smiled softly and turned her attention to Stu. They sat at the table long after they had finished their breakfast, just enjoying the quiet conversation without the threatening the presence of his father. Soon enough, however, they heard the pounding of feet coming down the steps. Dad was coming down, and he was smiling._

"_Mornin', Mary, Gene, Stu," he said cheerily. Gene stared at him in amazement. Why was he in such a good mood? He had to be hung over, he had drunk nearly half a bottle of whiskey the night previously._

"_I've decided, I'm givin' up the drink, Mary. S'not good for me, or for the kids." He smiled broadly at them all. Gene did his best to hold back a humourless laugh. If he knew his father, he would be back on the drink by the end of the week. _

"_Now, don' lift a finger, Mary, cause me an' Gene'll be makin' lunch. His Mam gave a small smile, and exited the kitchen, followed closely by Stu. Gene looked up at his father distrustfully. This wasn't going to end well, he could already feel it. _

"_Now, listen, you li'l shit, you screw up, you will pay. Got it? Now, get some water to boil, and I'll peel potatoes." Gene nodded silently. He filled a pot with water, and started towards the stove with it. The handle was wet. He tried to grip it, but it was slipping through his hands. Suddenly, it landed on the floor, water spilling everywhere. His father turned, eyes glinting dangerously, knife in hand. _

_There was a burning pain, and his father's knife was suddenly covered in blood. Gene stared down at his chest in shock._

"_Shit," he said, the word coming before he could stop it._

"_Don't you dare bloody swear in front of me or your mother, you useless li'l bastard!" His father lunged at him, blows raining down, and Gene screamed, desperate for it to stop._

_~(*)~_

"LEXI!!!!" Gene sat straight up in his bed, screaming out her name. He was covered in sweat. His heart was racing, and the scar across his torso was tingling from shoulder to side. Gene got out of bed, and started walking around to calm his racing heart.

He had not had this nightmare in decades, since before Stu died. When he was younger, it had always pissed him off to have the nightmare. He couldn't stand the fact that he was weak enough that his father could haunt him even though he wasn't around. He had believed himself weak.

As Gene brewed himself a cup of tea, he thought of what Lexi said to him the last morning he had lived in her house, the morning that his father had nearly killed him for a second time.

"_Gene, you had a traumatic experience a few years back. It's perfectly normal to have..."_

He had cut her off then, yelling at her. Normal? How could he ever be normal? He knew his home life wasn't normal. How many other children had been beaten to near death at the age of fourteen and went to live with a posh southerner?

And speaking of posh southerners... Gene's mind drifted to Alex. He couldn't get over the fact of how much she looked like Lexi. Since reading the note the other night, he was convinced that Alex was Lexi reincarnated, or something along those lines. He had never really believed in reincarnation, or religion as a whole, but with Alex and Lexi, the similarities were really outstanding.

They had the same face, the same body, eyes, handwriting, everything. Lexi had even had brown hair before suddenly going blonde and staying that way the rest of her life. He didn't know why, he thought she looked fine as a brunette.

He had told Alex none of this. He knew that as soon as he said anything, she would laugh at him. But ever since he had read that letter the week previously, he could not stop thinking about the similarities. Gene had even gone as far as pulling out the picture during the middle of the day and sat in his office comparing each individual feature of their faces. Suddenly she had barged in, and he had not been able to stow away the picture before she saw him looking at it.

"What's that Guv?"

"What have I told you about knocking?" he growled menacingly, although that never seemed to bother her.

"Always knock before entering," she recited like a bored schoolgirl, before turning her attention to the photo in his hands again. "So, what are you looking at?"

He could tell she had come in just to bother him. He didn't really blame her; all they were doing today was catching up with paperwork. It was a mundane task to say the best about it. CID developed more colourful language than usual when their days involved only sitting doing paperwork.

Gene looked up at her, trying not to let the amusement show in his eyes. "Don't you have paperwork you should be doing?"

"Nope," she said lightly. "I made a bet with Chris and Ray, and pawned it all off on them."

"Oh really?" he queried. "And what was that?"

"Can't tell you unless you tell me what you're holding." The corners of her mouth were twitching. He knew she was just doing this to wind him up, and it was starting to work.

"DI Drake," he said in his most commanding tone, "I order you to tell me what you did."

She smiled at him. "I can't tell you all of it, but it involved your dartboard, and you being in the loo."

Gene looked up at his dartboard. Sure enough, the darts were in different positions than when he had played with it before. "You touched my darts?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, Guv. You should have heard them going on and on about how brilliant they were. Then they asked me about it, and I told them that I wasn't too good, so they bet me five quid. They won, so I bet them my paperwork. You should have seen the looks on their faces." She laughed, and the sound filled the air.

"You hustled them? Bolly, you're a scheming cow!" Alex just laughed again. Gene looked at her. Ever since she had woken out of her coma months ago, she had been a bit different, more carefree it seemed. When he had questioned her about it, she had merely replied "Most people get only one life to live. I get three. And this one's the most fun!"

Gene had nodded in confusion, but it helped with the reincarnation theory that was rolling around in his head.

"So," said Alex. "Do I ever get to find out what you're holding, or do I have to raid your desk later?"

"You're too curious for your own good, Bolly."

"I know," she replied simply. "My...uncle was always saying that as I grew up."

Gene looked at her, considering just taking the picture home with him that night. But he couldn't do that. Ever since he had first started in the force, he had had the picture in his locker, or his desk. Lexi had been like a mother to him. Sometimes she seemed more like a mother than his mother had. Silently, he handed the photo over to her, knowing it was the only way to get her to shut up.

She looked at it, a small dawning of realisation coming over her face. "This you?"

Gene nodded stiffly. "I was fifteen."

Alex looked at the picture a little longer. "That woman isn't your mother," she stated simply.

"How do you know that?"

"She doesn't look a thing like you." Was it just him, or did she seem to be covering something up?

"Yes, Bolls. You and your psychiatry are right again. That's not me Mam. Remember Lexi?"

She looked up, thinking. "The woman you told me about when I was in my coma right?" she said a little too quickly.

"Yeah," Gene said, looking at her. "That's Lexi. I stayed with her for over two years."

Alex smiled a soft smile. "That's really sweet Gene."

"Oi! I'm not a poofter. I'm not _sweet_."

"You are completely right of course," Alex said sarcastically. "How wonderful and _manly _it is for you to have a picture of someone who was like your mother in your desk."

He had wanted to stop her at that moment. He wanted to know how she knew Lexi was like a mother to him. Unfortunately at that moment, his phone had rung, and she moved out of his office, going to talk to Chris and Ray.

Gene stirred his tea, growing tired. It was only just gone three in the morning, and after the initial rush of adrenaline, the nightmare would take its toll on him. He wondered what brought it back on. Gene hadn't had the nightmare since before Stu died, since he had idiotically cut Lexi out of his life.

He had had so many questions to ask her, so many things he wanted to know about her. His curiosity as a child had never waned about her, to him she had always been an enigma. Why had she shown up like she did? Where had she come from? He had asked all these questions as a child, but she was always vague when answering them. That was her one quality that puzzled him most. How could one tell so much and yet so little?

He wondered if the fact that he had the nightmare was because he had been bringing up his past so much lately. First Alex had been in the coma, and he had told her all about his past. Now, it didn't seem like he could stop thinking about it. The pain of his father's beatings, the quiet, careful movements of his mother across the household, little Stu, playing with something he had put together from scraps. Most of all he thought about Lexi. What would have happened if she had not had the heart attack that day? How would their relationship have fared? Gene knew that he couldn't boot her out of his life again, the pain that he had encountered the first time doing that was enough.

Gene yawned loudly, surprising himself. He downed the last of his tea, and went back to bed, still thinking about her, and wondering how Alex and Lexi, two women that would have never met, were so much alike.

**TBC! Reviews always appreciated!**


	2. Falling into the Past

**Right, I know the first chapter was a bit dull, but it was just setting the scene. Everything goes into motion this chapter!(You know it can't be one of my fics if Alex doesn't get herself in some sort of trouble...) I hope you enjoy! Also, thanks to ****Robin,**** Wilson...err... I mean Watson, and Elephants :P  
**

**Chapter Two: Falling into the Past**

_He had curled into a ball on the floor, trying his hardest not to sob. If he cried, his father would just beat him all the more. Finally, his father stopped, mumbling about how badly he needed a drink, and surely going to the cabinet where he kept it. Gene was bruised, battered and bleeding. He knew there was only one place he could go, to get out of the hellhole his father had created. Lexi. Lexi would help him. With extreme effort, he crawled up off the floor, trying to stand. Gene had to support himself on something, he could barely move. Gene stumbled down the lane to Lexi's house, hoping she was home. He knocked on the door, so lightly he was afraid she wouldn't hear it. Gene couldn't help it. He had to lay down. He fell to a crumpled heap in front of her door, wishing that it would open. Finally, it did. But it wasn't Lexi standing in the doorway. It was his father, grinning evilly. _

"_Good," he said, his voice full of malice. "I get ter finish ya off, you li'l shit."_

_Gene cried out, cried Lexi's name, but his father just grinned. "That southerner ain't gonna take care of you, Gene."_

_Gene flinched. It was even worse hearing his father call him by his given name than by little shit. His father was continued, oblivious._

"_I've already taken care of that posh bitch," he said, mirthlessly. Gene raised his head painfully, looking directly at his father. The long knife glistened in the sunlight, the liquid ruby contrasting sharply with the bright, biting silver. Gene looked into the house, seeing Lexi slumped against the wall, her face one of shock. He stared in shock and horror as his father started laughing. _

_~(*)~_

"LEXI!"Gene woke for the second time that morning screaming her name. He had always had the second part of the nightmare, why would this day be any different? An odd feeling of dread had settled in his stomach. He thought back to his youth, back to the times he used to have the nightmares frequently. He didn't remember a sense of dread coming over him, _ever, _even in the first few nights after he woke up at Lexi's. He had the initial fear, waking himself from his nightmare, and going back into a fitful sleep, and later, he would experience the anger at still letting his father scare him, but he never felt dread.

The first few years, he had Lexi to help him out. Oftentimes, in the middle of the night, he would wake screaming, only to be wrapped in her arms a moment later. As he grew numb, he stopped yelling out as he awoke, and so she stopped coming in. He could hide nothing from her, and she knew that he still had them, but she seemed to accept the fact that he didn't want to talk about it.

Then he had left, and the nightmares grew more and more infrequent, until he had finally stopped having them altogether. Last night was such a rare occurrence; Gene couldn't help but feel that something bad was going to happen.

Gene got into the shower, hoping that the hot water would wash away the dread as well. It seemed to work, putting him in an infinitely better mood. The shower had lightened the dread in his stomach a touch, but it still hung there, heavy and imposing.

He drove to work, entering his CID before anyone else. That was always how it was. Every since he had become a DCI over ten years ago, he had arrived earlier than anyone else, to show that _he _was in charge. His CID had acknowledged his leadership without question, becoming fiercely loyal. Ray and Chris had even followed him down from Manchester.

There was another thing that surprised Gene about Lexi. Her final letter to him. It was so accurate in what he would become, it even described Sam and Alex. Names were not mentioned, but the traits were described perfectly.

Gene sat in his chair and pulled out Lexi's letter. He looked down to the bottom, for the lines that discussed his future.

_Gene, you may have already realised, but you are a powerful man. You command respect wherever you go. Your men will be fiercely loyal to you, I promise. There may be a time when you will doubt one; possibly you believe he will try to take you down. Gene, if he does do this, never stop trusting him. He would not want to actually take you down; he wouldn't want your power. I promise you, even to the days when you start questioning whether you are getting to old to be in the police force anymore, everyone will respect you, even posh women that seem like fruitcakes and constantly challenge your authority._

Gene never failed to be amazed as he read those lines. The few sentences that described him doubted one of his men, because they were trying to take him down described the raid on the train perfectly. Sam was supposed to be working for Hyde, but in the end remained loyal to Gene, and finally settled down and stopped acting like such a twat.

He had no idea what Lexi had meant about the posh women, until the moment Alex Drake stumbled into his life. She was posh, she was a complete fruitcake, and she constantly did things without getting his approval, or undermined him. As much as it annoyed him however, he really did enjoy a good fight with her. He liked to see her get flushed in anger, to see those soft lips flying at speeds he wouldn't have thought imaginable. Gene hadn't realised how much he loved the fact that she was there until the moment she had been shot up in Manchester. Seeing her lie motionless in that bed for two weeks had really changed his perception of her.

Now, even when she was most annoying, he still loved it. He knew that he could not survive in this world without her, and that by driving him insane she was keeping him sane. Gene wondered if he meant anywhere near the same to her.

Gene hastily shoved the letter back in his desk as Alex walked through the door. She was so inquisitive, wanting to know everything about Lexi, now that she had woken up. He didn't like to talk about Lexi. He still felt guilty about abandoning her over twenty years previously. She had forgiven him, but if he hadn't abandoned her, they would have had over four more years together.

People wondered why he kept everything to himself. He knew Alex did. She had pleaded him more than once to let her in on what he was thinking. The thing was, the only person he had been able to tell anything to was Lexi, and after he cut her out of his life, he had no confidants, and didn't look for anyone to be one. No one could fill that gaping hole she had left.

Suddenly his there was a knock at his door, startling him back to reality. He looked up and said "Enter." Alex walked through the door, her hair and makeup done perfectly as always. One of the oddest things Gene had experienced was seeing her without her makeup on in the hospital. She looked so different, but so gorgeous at the same time. Gene shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked up at Alex.

"What's going on? And why the bloody hell did you knock? You usually just barge in!"

"Sorry Guv," she grinned. "You just looked so deep in thought I didn't want to disturb you."

"Didn't stop you though, did it, you evil mare?"

"Well, it is rather important," she said, a small smile playing on her lips.

"What is it?" Gene sighed, hoping for a break in the paperwork.

"We've got a tip-off," she said.

"On which case?"

"Operation Humpty Dumpty," she said, nearly laughing at the name.

Gene frowned. It certainly hadn't been his idea to name the operation after a children's poem, but it seemed to brighten the morale of CID when it was brought up, so he left it be.

"What's the news?"

"We got a location."

"Good, Bolls. Way to crack this egg."

She groaned, and Gene ignored her, pulling his jacket on. "C'mon, let's get there before they scatter and we can't put them together again."

~(*)~

Gene stood outside the silent warehouse, Alex standing behind him, both looking around quietly, waiting for the deal to go off. He raised the radio to his lips. "King ready."

"Men ready," came Rays voice.

"Guv, did I have to be the horses?" Chris's voice whined over the radio. Gene ignored it, assuming Chris was in position. Suddenly, two men stood in front of him, other men in a ring around them, clearly exchanging some kind of drugs. Gene counted to three, and then raised the radio to his mouth again.

"CHARGE!" He couldn't resist. It was Bolly who had created the name for this operation, he'd take the piss out of it as much as he could.

They all ran to the centre, the place suddenly turning into chaos. Uniform were swarming everywhere, knocking men to the ground, pulling the cuffs out of their pockets. Gene had two men down before he heard it.

The gasp.

The same gasp he had heard several months earlier before Bolly had her chest blown off. He turned around instantly, looking at a man holding her around the shoulders, a knife pressed to her throat. She was tugging on his arm frantically, but to no avail. He was too strong for her, and he could tell she knew it.

"Let her go," Gene said calmly.

"No!" the man cried. "I ain't goin' to jail!

"Listen to me, if you murder her, you _are _going to jail. Its a life sentence. If you let her go, it'd be only ten years max. What do you think?"

The man looked between Gene and the woman in his clutches, his grip seeming to grow slack.

"That's it," Gene said softly. Bloody hell, was he using psychology? Gene shook his head. Now was not the time to start wondering about what he was doing. There was only one thing that mattered now, and that was getting Bolly away from the nutter with the knife.

"C'mon," he encouraged. "You know that you don't want to kill this woman." The man looked down at Alex. She stared at Gene, and he did his best not to notice the sheer panic in her eyes.

"Let her go," he said forcefully, but still calmingly. The man's grip loosened even more, and Alex ran out of his arms, towards Gene. Gene didn't acknowledge this, however, instead charging for the man who had held her captive. He noticed nothing except for his anger as he ran towards the man.

Gene tackled him to the ground, feeling a searing pain in his stomach but ignoring it. He stood, flipping the man to his stomach and putting his hands behind his back.

"You're nicked," he said, almost laughingly. He looked down triumphantly at the man beneath him, noticing for the first time the hilt of a knife protruding from a scarlet stain in his stomach. Suddenly the pain came back tenfold, causing him to double over. He lowered himself to the ground, laying on his back. Alex, Ray and Chris all stood around him looking worried. They were saying something but he couldn't hear him. Alex was kneeling down over him, worry and tears in her eyes, as she moved her hands together and placed them on his chest. He couldn't feel her hands.

All he knew was the burning pain of the wound, the freezing cold of every other part of his body, and the feeling of falling as he was swallowed into blackness.

~(*)~

Gene woke slowly, hearing an odd voice calling his name. There was no pain in his stomach. Had he just been dreaming then? He blinked blearily, focusing on the face above him.

"Oi! You! Yeh gotta get up. C'mon, yeh gotta get up. Ya were s'posed ta be up five minutes ago. If they catch yeh, yer dead meat."

Gene blinked more, bringing the man's face into focus. A shock of brown hair sat atop the head of a silvery/blue eyed man, who was shaking him into consciousness. "I know, I 'ad a good time back too, but now we gotta go. C'mon. We're gonna get in trouble!"

Gene rubbed his eyes to make sure they were not playing tricks on him. "No bloody way," he whispered.

"Yes, ya know how they are. C'mon! Get your arse up!"

Gene stumbled to his feet, pulled along by the man in front of him. The man he had tried all his life to forget. He had been woken up by a man who was unmistakably his father.

**TBC! Reviews are appreciated!**

**Oh, right... Rolephant? Rolephant who? :P  
**


	3. Father's Day

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and added to their story alerts! :) Thanks to Rolephant, even though she has been rather quiet this past week :P**

**Chapter 3: Father's Day**

Gene stared at the man in front of him disbelievingly. How could this be his father? His father had died years ago! But his eyes told him differently. Stood in front of him was his father. The build was the same, the hair, the face...

There was something different about the man though. Gene stared, trying to figure it out. Suddenly he realised. The 'L' shaped scar, the one that started in the middle of his father's forehead, moved across to the temple and then down across the left cheek was gone. His father's eyes, they were different too. There was no cold hardness to them. They were warm, smiling, and at the moment, distinctly uncomfortable.

"Err... I'm Max 'unt," he said awkwardly, extending his hand.

"Gene Hunt," Gene replied, shaking his hand firmly, trying not to let his distaste show. This wasn't the same man that he had experienced for nine years. This was the man that had taught him how to play footie, who his Mam had loved.

Max Hunt's eyes widened slightly before he responded. "Gene 'unt? S'odd. That's me son's name."

"You've a son?" Gene asked, interested to know what his father thought about him.

"Yeah. Gene's seven. Got a younger one named Stuart. 'E's five. Both cheeky little buggers, them." His father smiled proudly. "I'd show you a photo, but we really gotta get goin'."

"Where are we?" Gene asked, starting to convince himself that he had gone completely mad. Indeed, as Max Hunt turned to look at him, his face was one of a man who thought his companion was completely bonkers.

"We're in London," he said. "S'1943. Germans? Bombs? Any of this ringin' a bell?"

"No," Gene said disbelievingly. "Can't be. Was '82. I was stabbed...And then..." Gene trailed off staring at his father.

"Okay," his father said, looking like he had gone completely mad. "Tha's all fine an' well then, but righ' now, s'1943, an' we need to get to the train. Lemme look at yer papers."

Gene looked at him, and then down. He was wearing an army uniform. How did he get in the uniform? Last he remembered he had been wearing a work suit. He had no time to ponder this however, as his father had reached in his pocket. Gene pulled back out of instinct, but Max Hunt just frowned and opened the papers he now held.

"Down from Manc too? Yer in me troop. C'mon." His father grabbed his wrist and started pulling him along. Gene resisted.

"Where are we going?"

"Wot the 'ell is wrong wit' you? We're going t' Italy. Mussolini's messin' wit us, but you an' me were on leave for a bit. Now we're goin' back." He said this as if explaining it to someone very dense. Gene couldn't blame him, but he really had no idea what the hell was going on.

"But where are we going in Italy?" Gene couldn't go to Italy! He had to get back, somehow. He needed to get back to Bolly, to tell her he would be okay.

His father just rolled his eyes. "Sicily. We're gonna start bombin' it soon. Then we're gonna get Mussolini out of there. C'mon. Lets GO!" His father roared the final word and Gene jumped, and started following him. They rushed onto a ship, and Max Hunt turned to him.

"We gotta report to the superiors. Otherwise we're AWOL. An' then we go to jail."

"I know what happens then," Gene snapped, in a tone that would always earn him a beating. His father just shot him an annoyed look and continued walking.

"Tha's fine. But wit the way yeh were acting there fer a bit, I weren't too sure wot you'd know and what yeh wouldn't. Was beginning to think that you were bloody bonkers."

Gene just gave him a look and stayed quiet. Was he going bonkers? There was no way that this could be happening, could it? He thought back to the last thing he remembered before waking up in this world. Alex was kneeling over him, tears in her eyes. Her hands moved over his chest, like she was getting ready to do CPR. Had he stopped breathing? He didn't know. He knew that he had hardly had the strength to move a finger, let alone move around. It was very possible that he had stopped breathing. So the question was, was he dead? Or was this just some crazy dream he was having? Was he in a coma?

If he was in a coma, was this the world Alex experienced? Gene stopped in his tracks. Alex and Lexi looked exactly alike. And if this was the world that Alex experienced...

"Good God, 'unt! We've gotta report! Now stop acting like such a bloody nonce and get over 'ere!" His father's voice screamed at him once more. Some long lost instinct stirred in Gene and he immediately started moving, following his father's order. As much as he hated himself for doing it, Gene knew that this was not the same man that he had tried all his life to forget.

They reached the first compartment, and his father knocked and entered. He followed his father into the room. A man in an officer's uniform sat behind a table in the centre of the room.

"Private Maxwell 'unt, reportin' back from leave, sir," his father said, saluting proudly. Hurriedly, Gene checked the sleeves of his uniform. A private? He was only a bloody private? He should at least be a sergeant! Hell, he could be a bloody general and win the war two years early, but a _private_?"

"Who are you?" the man at the desk barked, snapping Gene out of his indignity.

"Err...Private Gene Hunt, reporting back from leave, sir," Gene said, the words coming out stumbled and confused.

"I'm sorry, Private, I don't understand the language of mumble!" the man screamed. "Who the hell are you?!"

"PRIVATE GENE HUNT, REPORTING BACK FROM LEAVE, _SIR!" _Gene bellowed.

The man looked up at him. "Better. I expect all your responses to be like that in the future. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Gene yelled, cringing at having to grovel to this man. The man looked down at a paper in front of his desk.

"Hunt..." he muttered to himself. "Two of you. Lovely. Exactly what we need." The man looked up from his paper. "Congratulations. You're both in Compartment Twelve."

Gene looked to his right and noticed his father trying to hide a grimace of annoyance. It didn't bother him though; he was doing the same thing. The idea of sharing a compartment with his father made his stomach drop. Though he knew it was a different man, he could not get the abusive alcoholic out of his head.

"That cabin's filling up, so I suggest you get down there and claim seats as quickly as possible. Dismissed."

Gene and his father both saluted, picked up their bags, and left the compartment. They walked quickly down the compartment they were assigned and stood in the door, studying the space. There were only two seats left, right next to each other. His father pushed up the table that hung from the wall. He grinned guiltily at Gene. "More space this way."

"Exact same thing I was thinking," Gene said, trying to keep his face impassive. This man was a bastard inside. He couldn't get too friendly with him! They both sat in uncomfortable silence, still waiting for the train to move.

"So..." his father said, trying to break the tense silence. "Yer from Manchester?"

"Yeah," Gene said.

"Whereabouts?" Gene paused. What could he tell his father without giving too much away? Oh sod it. His father didn't know him now.

"I moved to the middle of the city when I was sixteen. My father died. Before then I lived up by the river."

"That's odd. Exact opposite for me. I was born in the city, lived there, met a girl, got 'itched, and we moved out to the river."

"River's the best place to be," said Gene, remember all the days he had spent by the river, amazed at the sheer force lying underneath the beauty. Just like Alex.

"Ya got yerself a girl?" his father asked.

"Nope," Gene said. "There was one, but she's gone."

"Lost 'er to another man?" his father asked sympathetically.

"Nah, I was too stubborn to admit what I felt, and I don't think she ever felt that way."

"Tha's how I was wit' Adriana. Some'ow I got the courage, and we've been together since. When we get back mate, yeh should talk to 'er."

"Yeah," said Gene, thinking. The problem was, he didn't even know how the hell he _could_ get back, much less what would happen when he got there.

"Tell me mate, wot's she look like?" His father watched, waiting for a response, but continued before Gene answered.

"Yeh know, yer right old, aren't yeh? Older than marrying age at least. Usually we get married in the twenties..." Gene bristled slightly. He didn't want to talk to his father, even this happy, good version. This man had instilled fear that had lasted in him until this very day. However, there was an odd feeling inside him. Gene had always wanted his father's attention, for his father to know what was going on his life. He had wanted to see the grin of approval that he was doing things right. Gene knew that he would never receive that grin after his father had returned, but this was his father before the head trauma. If he told Max Hunt about his wife, and Alex, would his father smile at him? Gene decided to risk it, secretly hating himself for still needing the approval from the man he loathed.

"I was married," Gene said.

"Was? As in divorced?" his father asked with a look of distaste on his face. Instantly Gene knew he couldn't tell the whole truth. Things were different in this world, and men and women stayed married, no matter how shit the relationship was.

"Erm, no," Gene lied. "She died. Fell in the river, hit her head on a rock." So now he was describing Sam's death, with a few details switched. Gene silently apologised to Sam for dishonouring his memory with Ruth, but he continued. "Anyway, I wasn't doing good after that. Drank too much, did nothing but work and then go get pissed." He decided to leave the bit out about shagging a different woman every night. "Then one day, this right posh woman walked in. She was scared, confused, and treated me like shit. And I loved it."

"Like yeh din't exist?" Max Hunt queried, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah," Gene said. "How'd you know?"

"Well, firs' off, yer goin' on about a posh bird. S'how they are. Only care 'bout themselves an' all. But tha' was how Adriana was as well. I was the alpha male, an' could get any bird I wanted. Then she waltzed in front of me, treated me like I were rat shit, and I fell 'ead over 'eels. We got married in 1929, and 'ad our Gene seven years later."

_Their Gene_. At one time his father had claimed him as a son. And not in a cruel hateful way like Gene was used to, but in a way a normal father would talk about his son. His father was now rummaging through his pockets.

"'Ere we go." His father had pulled a photograph out of his pocket, and handed it to Gene. "The taller one is Gene. Younger one is Stu."

Gene recognised it of course. It was the same picture that had hung over their fireplace until his father had died. All of their faces were stoic, but the solemn face could not hide the smile behind his father's eyes, the mischief in his own. Gene felt his hands shake as he handed the photograph back.

"Yeh know 'unt? I think I might like yeh after all." He held out his hand once more. "Call me Max."

Gene shook his hand again and smiled in spite of himself. "Call me Gene."

* * *

A/N: Please Note: In chapter 5 of Secrets of the Past, Gene reveals that his father was not always awful. :)

* * *

**TBC! Reviews always appreciated!**


	4. Are Visions a Sign of the Mad?

**Sorry to anyone who loves history, as Rolephant knows, I have trouble keeping the Allies and Axis powers straight. So if I butcher history as completely as the Americans did with the end of Life on Mars please pretend it is just me taking artistic licence (and not get as mad at me for butchering history as I did the Americans for squashing the amazing out of their LOM and Gene Hunt...). Also, thanks to Rolephant for helping me not to butcher the German language as well as history! Again thanks to Rolephant and the Euro of Doom for having complete confidence in me being able to post today! As she and I know, the Euro of Doom is never wrong... (Just wait till you see what it's predicted for Gene... :P)  
**

**Chapter Four: Are Visions a Sign of The Mad?**

**13 July, 1943**

Gene flopped onto his back, exhausted. It had been a hot day. Ever since they had landed in Sicily three days ago, they had been fighting non-stop. He had seen more than a few men killed, and knew that if he didn't get out soon, he would see many more.

When they got on the ship to go to Sicily, Gene and his father had found out that since people were bunked alphabetically, they were bunkmates. Max's merry personality was infectious, and Gene found him smiling more than once before returning to his characteristic scowl. He had to keep reminding himself that this man was his _father_. This was the man who had haunted him up to the night before he had come to this place.

Max came up to Gene and threw him a canteen. "'Ere. Yeh look parched."

"Thanks," said Gene, wiping sweat from his brow.

"S'bloody 'ot 'ere. Dunno why they made us come."

"Dunno. I think they said something about a war."

"Nah," said Max smiling. "I think its just some grumpy bastards pissin' about. The 'igher ups should take care of it, an' let us all return back to our 'omes.

"Since when has talking done any good?" Gene asked seriously. "All they have done since this bloody thing begun is talk, and all we've done is shoot at Italians!"

"Oi! I've come close ter shootin' yeh on occasion!" Max suddenly got his gun out and held it. Gene felt the fear well up in his stomach immediately. He leapt across and knocked the gun out of his father's hands and stood in front of him, chest heaving.

"Good God. Relax, 'unt! I was jus' gettin' this out to check bullets. Twat." Max laughed. "Anyone would think yeh thought I _would_ kill yeh."

"Yeah," said Gene, laughing weakly. "One may think that."

"Do yeh not trust me Gene?" His father looked up at him questioningly. "Some days when I'm around yer jumpier than a teenage boy around 'is girl's father."

"Do I trust you?" Gene repeated.

"Yeah. Cause, yeh know, if yeh can't trust me, then I'm gonna need ter find a different mate. Yeh need someone you'd trust with yer life."

Gene almost laughed. Trust his father with his life? His father had nearly killed him twice. He had the scar to prove the first time. He had had bruises to prove the second. But again, this man was different. The head trauma had not yet happened. This was his _dad._ Could he trust his _dad_ with his life?

"Do I trust you?" Gene asked again. "I do, you div. Please excuse me for being a bit jumpy, but as I said earlier we are in the middle of a war."

"An' you an' me are gonna come out 'eroes. They'll knight us, an' then yeh'll get tha' posh bird of yours, an' then I'm gonna become prime minister."

"Why don't I get to be prime minister?" Gene asked sulkily.

"Yeh will. Jus' I getta go firs'."

"Why?"

"Cause I though' of it, tha's why! Yer soundin' like my Gene, 'unt! I should give you a jolly good wallop on the arse!" Max laughed. Gene laughed with him, but it was a fake laugh. He was remembering the days when a 'wallop on the arse' was the worst punishment they received.

Suddenly bullets sounded over their heads. Instantly Gene and his father stopped laughing and grabbed their guns. They returned fire, and no bullets came back.

"Tha's my kill. Las' one was yers."

Gene however, was not paying attention. Standing out in the middle of the field was a woman. She was not dressed for the time in which he was in. She was wearing skinny jeans, black boots, and a white jacket. Her back was turned to him.

"ALEX!" he bellowed. What was she doing out here?! She was going to get herself killed! Gene was on his feet in an instant and she turned to him as he started running.

Gene stopped in his tracks. Tears were running down her face, and blood covered the front of her jacket and blouse. She was hurt! Gene started running again, towards her, to get her onto the ground and administer whatever first aid was necessary. As he grew closer he heard her voice.

"_Hang on Gene. Just hang on."_ Suddenly someone tackled him from behind, and Gene heard bullets over his head once again. He looked up, but Alex was gone. He tried to move, but there was still the weight of whoever knocked him over on top of him. The person on top of him was returning fire. The volley lasted for a good five minutes before the person finally rolled off of him.

"Get back. Now 'unt!" The hissed order stirred him into motion and he crawled back to where he and his father had been before. His father crawled after him. When he reached their spot, his face turned from one of worry, to one of rage.

"What the 'ELL is wrong with yeh? Yeh go ou' into no man's lan' like that again, an' yer gonna be killed! Yeh nearly were, you bloody twat!"

Gene just stared at his father through unseeing eyes. He had seen _Alex._ So did this mean he was still alive in 1982? She had been telling him to hang on. Gene intended to. He had to get back to Alex.

"Oi! Answer me question!"

"I saw her," Gene whispered.

"'Oo?"

"Alex."

"Alex? Sounds like a ruddy boy's name ter me."

"S'short for Alexandra, but she won't let anyone call her that."

"This yer posh bird?"

"Yeah," said Gene, still slightly breathless.

"S'an odd name ter go by. I mean, if she didn't want ter be called Alexandra, why not go by Lexi or summat?"

Gene just stared at his father. "Do you know a Lexi?"

"No," said Max haltingly. "It was just a thought."

"Sorry," said Gene. "It's just, when I was a child, I knew a Lexi. Her full name was Alexandra Wickham."

"She posh too?"

"Yeah. But she didn't act like it. She was just odd."

"See, 'unt. Now yer jus' describin' women in general. Anyway, under no circumstances are yeh to jump out of our li'l 'idey 'ole 'ere, because when yeh see this Alex, she'll jus' be a 'llucination. No women in a war zone."

He didn't know the half of it, Gene thought to himself. Anytime he saw Alex, she'd be an apparition. At least during this time she would. However, he would not be able to ignore her, something he knew would get him killed if he let it.

~(*)~

**1 August 1943**

It had been nearly an agonising month since the last time Gene had seen Alex. After her initial appearance, he always hoped she would show up, but she never did, He tried to push her to the back of his mind, but every time he did, Max would start talking longingly about home, and he'd find himself wishing he was back in 1982.

He belonged there. He didn't belong in this bloody war zone. This was torture, to watch men that he had become mates with die of gunshot wounds. The screams of agony could be heard throughout the day and long into the night. It was a noise that never stopped, like the sound of gunfire, or the sound of planes in the distance.

Gene stopped. An aeroplane was not a common sound to be heard. Usually one would hear the general machinery of attack weapons, but he had not heard planes in a good fortnight.

As if on cue, the air raid sirens sounded and something blocked out the hot sun that had been burning on his skin only a moment ago. Gene looked up, to see a bomb falling straight down towards him. He knew he needed to run, but he was rooted to the spot. Suddenly he heard Max yelling at him.

"RUN, YEH USELESS EXCUSE FER A SOLDIER! GET YER BLOODY ARSE OUT OF THERE!"

Max's voice had broken his reverie and Gene ran as fast as he could away from the place where he was standing. He could not seem to run fast enough. Suddenly, from behind him, he heard the loudest explosion he had ever experienced. Gene was thrown into the air, feeling something sear through his leg. He landed on his back, debris falling over him, cutting his face, his arms.

"Yer a bloody fool," said a weak voice to his right. Gene looked over, and saw Max. Massive amounts of blood flowed from an 'L' shaped wound to his head.

"Don't talk, Max," said Gene, agonised. It was his own fault his father had turned into a murdering bastard! The ground shook as more bomb fell near them, close enough to shower them with debris, but far enough away to not catch them in the blast.

"No," Max said, closing his eyes against the steady stream of bloody. "Gene, if I don' make it, yeh 'ave to be the one ter tell me family. Promise me, Gene."

Gene stared at his father, trying to hold back the tears of pain, and the tears of sorrow.

"Promise me, Gene!" his father said forcefully.

"I promise, Max," said Gene, his voice shaking.

"Good," Max breathed. He went limp, still breathing weakly.

The sirens stopped as the ground stopped shaking. Gene fought the blackness eating away at his vision, screaming for someone to come help them. He was, however, fighting a losing battle. The blackness continued to pursue his vision, finally stopping when he was completely blind.

He heard sounds around him, voices, but he could not make out what they said. Finally, all sounds faded as he lost consciousness completely.

~(*)~

_He was wandering, back in Manchester. He was by the river. The river was his favourite place to be. He loved to watch the water rush by him, marvelling at the sheer force. It amazed him that over thousands of years, the river had eaten its way through the land, not letting anything stand in its way. It had shaped rocks, knocked down trees, and displaced more than a few families when it overflowed._

_Gene walked back to the city. He picked up a newspaper out of a bin. The date read 15 October, 1982. That's what day it was when he had been shot! Gene looked at his surroundings. He was in London, but it was empty. He could hear sounds coming from nearby. Gene moved towards the sound. He heard beeps as if there was a heart monitor nearby. Gene heard the sounds of an operating theatre._

"_It doesn't look good right now," a voice said. _

_Suddenly another voice interrupted._

"_Er muss es verlieren."_

_Gene paused. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did they have some German working on him as well? Oh well, at least it was better than some poncey French bastard. _

_Suddenly, someone appeared in front of him. She had long blonde hair, and was wearing a dress that would work well in a few years._

"_Lexi?" he asked disbelievingly. She turned, looking at him and smiling softly. _

"_Hang on Gene," she whispered. Suddenly she started changing. Her dress pulled in at the legs, separating down the middle, becoming a pair of black skinny jeans. Her shoes grew up into boots, and the torso of her dress became a blue button up blouse and a white jacket, both covered in blood. She appeared to be sitting in a chair, but he could see none._

"_Alex?" he murmured, reaching out for her face. She stared past him, her hands reaching out and grabbing something. Gene felt his hand grow warm and wondered if Alex had actually grabbed it in 1982._

"_Gene, they say it doesn't look good. You've lost so much blood. They've done all they can, but now it's up to you. Gene, just keep fighting. Fight for me."_

"_I will," Gene whispered. "I'm coming back, Alex."_

_She turned and nodded at some unseen person._

"_They only gave me five minutes. I'll be back tomorrow." _

_Alex stood, and the warmth in his hand faded as she walked away from him disappearing into the mist. The world started turning black around him once more. Gene let the world dissolve, hoping that when he opened his eyes, he would see Alex._

_~(*)~_

The first thing recognised was the sound of two men mumbling. As Gene listened, he realised he could not understand a word of what was said.

"Wie geht es ihm?"

"Er wird es überstehen, aber er hat eine lange Zeit der Genesung vor sich."

What the hell? Why were these men only speaking in German?

Gene groaned. The men started talking again.

"Er ist wach," the first voice said.

"Gut. Was ist mit dem Mann, der bei ihm war?" the second man asked.

"Er sollte auch bald aufwachen."

Gene was starting to get annoyed. Why couldn't they speak bloody English?! Slowly, he opened his eyes. He was in a hospital ward of some kind. He looked over at the bed next to him. Max was lying there, eyes closed, but unmistakeably still breathing.

He looked toward the end of the bed. Two men were standing at the foot, cruel smiles on their faces.

"Willkommen zurück im Reich der Lebenden, britischer Soldat."

German uniforms. They were wearing German uniforms. He was in a German hospital. Gene knew what this meant immediately. He was now a prisoner of war.

**TBC!!!! Reviews are always appreciated!**


	5. On the Wrong Side of a Tiger

**Well, since I have no Alex to be absolutely evil to, I think Gene is getting the brunt of it.... Anyway, thanks to Rolephant, who without me would lead a much happier and more fair life...but still chooses to talk to me and who is so insanely fun to confuse! :P I haven't mentioned this at all, but I don't own Ashes (Hangs head.) Also bear with me if the history is a bit off! **

**Chapter 5: On The Wrong Side of a Tiger**

Gene looked around, panicked. How was he going to get out of this now? The Germans would surely kill him and Max. A thought niggled in the back of his mind, however. If they were going to kill him, why didn't they just leave him to die on the battlefield?

"British soldier," said one of the doctors at the foot of his bed. His voice carried an extremely heavy German accent. "Vat is your name and your rank?"

Gene didn't respond, staring at the doctors in shock.

The other doctor said something sharply in German, to which the first replied. Gene really wished he could understand what was being said.

"Ve need your name and rank, British soldier," the first doctor said.

Could he really refuse? What would they do if he did? Would they kill him like they should have in the first place? Gene thought. He didn't want to die before his father woke up. He at least wanted to say goodbye. Gene sighed.

"Gene Hunt, Private."

"Gut. Ve thought your rank vas private, but ve couldn't tell, because your uniform vas in rags. Lots of shrapnel from those bombs."

Gene assessed himself. He did seem to have quite a few bandages. There seemed to be one thicker than all the others, however, around his left knee.

He would never be able to tell what made him do it, but at that moment, Gene ripped the duvet from his legs and looked down. He screamed. It was a true scream, full of fear, shock, and loss, one that had not escaped his lips since his father had beaten him at fourteen.

Half of his leg was missing.

"What the HELL did you bastards do?" he bellowed. "You've taken half my leg! How the fucking hell do you expect me to walk now?! Did you do this to Max too?!"

He sat himself up in the bed, and tried to get off. However, he could not gain the balance on only one leg.

"Mister Hunt, please calm down," the first doctor said. "Ve had to amputate. Your leg was severed almost off before you got here. Even your British doctors vould not have been able to save it. And no, your friend did not get his leg amputated. The shrapnel hit his face and chest, but you got the brunt of it."

"Why didn't you just let us die?" Gene asked angrily. Dying would have been better than not having a leg! Maybe then he would have gotten back to Alex.

"Ve are doctors. Ve are trained to not let anyone die. Even if they are from Britain, or America," said the doctor, giving a shudder of disgust as he mentioned the latter.

There was a moan to the right of Gene. He looked over to see Max peering around blearily.

"Gene, yeh useless tosser, yeh look like shit," said Max, giving him a small smile.

"You do too, Max," said Gene, with a sigh of relief. He had been expecting the father that had come home, but Max still seemed to be the same as ever.

"No, mate. Yeh really look like shit. Yer face is a mess."

"S'not all that's a mess," said Gene, slightly angry. He pulled the stump of what used to be his leg out, and waggled it in the air. "Look at what the twats did to me."

The doctors had been standing unnoticed at the foot of the two men's beds. However when Gene moved the stump, one of the doctors let out a bark in German that caused both Gene and Max to jump.

"Mister Hunt you must not move your leg like that. You need to let it relax." The first doctor was speaking again.

"I'll do what I bloody well like with what's left with my leg since you useless bastards decided to take the rest of it!" Gene looked over at Max, who was staring at him in a state of shock.

"What'd they do that for?" he asked, voice hushed.

"They said my leg got blown off."

"It vas severed beyond saving," the first doctor said.

"Yeah, an' I'm sure if a German came in 'ere in the same condition yeh would've put 'im out of service too, right?" Max snapped sarcastically.

"Ve vould have had to. There vas no vay to save the leg," the doctor repeated, unfazed by Max yelling at him. "You both need to relax. Try to rest a bit," the doctor said as he and his companion walked off.

"So, how did we get here?" Max asked.

"No idea. I passed out, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up here with no leg."

"How do we get out?"

"Dunno," said Gene. "I can't really run now, and neither can you with the looks of that head of yours."

"S'fine. Don' even feel deep. But basically we're stuck 'ere," Max stated simply, looking at his surroundings miserably.

"Yeah, Max. We're stuck here."

~(*)~

**11 August, 1943**

Gene struggled to his foot, trying for the third time in an hour to get up without falling over. Max was being supportive, but not helpful in the slightest as every time Gene fell on his arse he would try unsuccessfully to hide his laughter.

"You think this is funny?" Gene grumbled after falling for the third time. "I'd like to see you try to do this. In fact, c'mere. I'll cut off your leg too."

"Nah, thanks. S'not like yeh have too much ter be worried about though," Max responded. He had not changed in the slightest since they nearly got blown up, making Gene wonder what had caused him to turn like he did by the time he returned home.

"What do you mean?"

"Birds love war 'eroes. Yer posh bird'll be all over yeh when yeh find 'er again."

"Yeah, sure," Gene said. He knew that would never happen. He wasn't a war hero in 1982. He'd been stabbed, yes, but that hardly constituted being a hero. Of course, he had saved her life, and that should mean something...

"Nah, she will. I can tell. I'm brillian' at this sor' of stuff."

"And you have too high of an opinion of yourself," Gene said, smirking.

"Ooh. That 'urt. Yeh know, Gene, yeh've gotten righ' rude since we were blown up."

Gene ignored him, and focussed himself on trying to get up once more. Max also lapsed into silence, content with watching Gene try and get himself up.

"Yeh know, if yeh don' get any better at this, yer welcome over at me 'ouse anytime. The kid'sll get a laugh from watching the one man freak show."

"Oi, you. Shut it," said Gene, concentrating all of his attention on getting up.

"Jus' get to it! Put yer best foot forward, 'op to it, an' get up!"

"That's it!" said Gene, who was so annoyed that he did not realise he was standing up. He pulled a crutch out from under his arm, and swung it at Max, who ducked to avoid it. Gene felt himself falling and landed on the bed, crutches falling on the floor as Max roared in laughter.

"Brilliant, 'unt! I'm quiverin' in fear now! I shall never insult yeh again fer fear tha' you'll come after me!"

Gene couldn't help it. He was smiling now. He knew he had to have looked like a right twat falling over. The past ten days in the hospital had not been fun, but he knew it would have been a lot worse if Max had not been there. There was a constant fear at the back of their minds, however, about what would happen when they had both recovered enough to not need medical attention anymore.

Gene knew about POW camps and he knew they weren't pleasant. He did not look forward to the day when they had to leave here. Even though the dark stares of the other men in the ward had not been comfortable, being among his own people in a POW camp would be worse. And there was a chance that they could die there. Of course, there was a chance they could die here too.

Suddenly, the doctor that spoke English approached them. "I need to talk to you both," he said. "Ve are moving you tomorrow."

Gene and Max exchanged panicked glances. The doctor seemed not to notice, and continued talking. "Normally ve vould send you to a POW camp. But, tomorrow ve are doing an exchange, as ve are moving out. You vill be taken back at sunrise to the front, vhere you vill svitch cars. Then you vill be taken to a hospital on your side.

Gene and Max looked at each other in relief. Neither understood what was going on, but neither cared. They were as good as free. However, they stayed quiet, not wanting to celebrate in front of the man in case he was trying to pull some sort of cruel joke.

The doctor walked off, leaving Gene and Max in a state of shock.

"Yeh think 'e means it?"

"Dunno," said Gene, thinking. There was something about the twelfth of August that he couldn't remember. What was it? Something about the Germans moving out, wasn't it?

"I 'ope 'e does. Yer one step closer to yer posh bird, an' I'm one step closer to my wife."

No, Gene wasn't one step closer. He had no idea how to get back. He hadn't seen Alex since he had passed out ten days earlier. Gene relaxed into his pillow, drifting to sleep. Ever since he had woken up, his sleep cycle had been off. It didn't matter though, Gene thought dozily. Things would be better tomorrow.

~(*)~

_He was walking down the street he had walked down many times before. Some days he had walked down this street completely content with the world, some days angry and brooding, and still others battered and bleeding. He was toward the house at the end of the lane. A grin crossed Gene's face as he got closer to the house. This was the only house he had ever liked, the only one he had ever felt safe in. _

_Gene approached the door and knocked. A blonde woman in her early forties opened the door and smiled at him. "Gene."_

_Gene stood on the threshold, just staring at her. "Lexi. I missed you."_

"_I missed you too Gene. But you can't come in yet."Her smile changed from friendly to saddened._

"_What? What do you mean?" Why was Lexi turning him away? She never turned him away!_

"_You can't come in yet Gene. This isn't your time. You don't belong here."_

"_Lexi, what do you mean?"_

"_Gene, if you cross, you're lost forever. And I don't want that. I'm fighting to keep you alive. The doctors won't listen, they say you won't make it. But even as you lay dying, I'm pulling out the paddles, begging them. They're looking at me, contemplating whether or not to humour me."_

_Lexi and her house faded from around him, only to be replaced with what looked like a hospital room. Gene had never been a believer in out of body experiences, but now he knew that he was having one._

_He lay in the centre in a bed, connected to tubes and an oxygen mask, the monitors around him flat lining. The long tone echoed around in the room. Alex was there, her face one of sheer panic._

"_No, you can't give up on him! God damn it! Just try! Just fucking try!" She was screaming at the doctors who were looking at him, heads hung. _

"_Alex," said Gene, knowing she couldn't hear him. He walked over to her, and put his hand on her shoulder, knowing that in real life, he would never be able to deliver this calming gesture._

_Alex stopped yelling at the doctors for a moment. She reached up and felt her shoulder, and then looked at the doctors again. _

"_Please," she whispered. Please? Alex never said please! Why was she fighting so hard for him to stay anyway? Did she really care that much? "Just once more. I really don't think he's given up. Just one more try."_

_The doctor looked at her sadly and nodded. "Once more, Miss Drake. If he doesn't respond, then I'm afraid we are going to have to just let him go. He's not fighting."_

"_I will fight, you soft bastards!" Gene yelled, as they took the paddles from Alex's hands. They removed the gown from his chest, baring the white scar that ran from shoulder to waist. Gene watched Alex carefully for some sign of surprise in her face at the scar, she had never seen it, but she showed no shock. Instead she showed some kind of motherly sadness at the sight of it. _

_The doctors were charging the paddles. It was odd to see himself like that, Gene thought. He was in the bed, not moving, not breathing. It was like when Alex was in his position, only he was much worse it seemed. _

"_Gene," she whispered. "Hang on. Fight. Rage. Pretend death is me. Fight death just like you fight with me Gene. Please."_

_Please. She'd said it again. _

"_I'm coming back, Alex. I don't know how, but I'm coming back."_

_The room faded to black. The last thing he heard was the doctor yelling._

"_CLEAR!"_

_~(*)~_

"Oi. Gene. We 'ave ter get up."

What? No. He couldn't be there. He was fighting to go back to Alex! They were trying to revive him! He was fighting death like he fought Alex! At least he thought he was. Maybe he was dead. The doctors certainly held out no hope for him. They were just stringing Bolly along, playing her game until she could see that he really was dead. Overwhelming guilt formed in Gene's gut. He had died on her, his Bolly. And he hadn't even tried to. He thought he was fighting. Apparently he wasn't. And now he was dead.

"Oi. 'Opalong. We 'ave ter get up!"

Gene opened his eyes to see Max shaking him awake.

"C'mon. Its time ter find out if those tossers were tellin' the truth or not."

Gene blinked and focussed, grabbing for the crutches at his bedside.

"No. I'm helpin' yer up," said Max, picking the crutches up before he could reach them. "If I left it ter you, we'd be 'ere all day."

"Give me the crutches," said Gene, extending his hand. "I need something to hold on to. You can help me balance."

Max relented, and gave him his crutches. Gene worked his way to his foot, hardly wobbling this time as he stood. Max steadied his shoulders.

"Good. Yeh might not 'ave ter come an' entertain me kids after all."

Two Feldgendarmerie, or German military police, were standing by the beds, waiting to escort them out. After Gene was steady enough, they walked out of the hospital towards a vehicle that looked like a transit van. The men stopped outside the back and opened the doors. One barked something in German, which Gene assumed meant to get into the back. He struggled in, and the doors closed, leaving him and Max in the dark.

"Well, 'ere we go. Next stop, either our side, or a POW camp."

Gene didn't respond. He was too engrossed in the dream he had had. Was he really dead in 1982? If he was why was he still living? Was he going to spend the rest of his existence one-legged, using crutches to move? And what if he lived till 1982 again? It was forty years away, he may be 46 now, but that meant he would be 86 in 1982. Would he be able to see Alex? Would she recognise him? Probably not.

Gene had not seen a mirror, but from what Max had said, the scarring on his face was going to be quite bad.

"Yeh look like yeh got on the wrong side of an angry cat," he had said.

"A cat? I'd just pull it off," Gene had replied.

"Okay, not a cat. A bloody tiger then."

If Gene looked like a tiger had mauled him, he doubted his face would look the same, especially forty years from now, when it would be wrinkled with age.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the van came to a halt.

"This is it, mate," Max said nervously.

The doors opened, and Gene stepped out. In the moment that he was blinded by the sun, he heard two syllables uttered in a whisper from the voice he longed to hear most.

"_Fight, Gene."_

**TBC! Reviews are always appreciated!**


	6. Heading Back Home

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I really appreciate it! Thanks to Rolephant for forcing me to use the name "Geney Weeney" during this chapter. (haha yes, i know. without me you'd live a happier, more fair life...)  
**

**Chapter 6: Heading Back Home**

Gene blinked in the bright sunlight. He stared at the ground for a few moments before he trusted himself to look up again. Looking up, the tense knot in his stomach loosened. The men in front of him were wearing British uniforms. There was an ambulance behind the two men.

"This is it?" one of them asked. Gene noted that the man was a Lieutenant.

"Ve only had the two," one of the Germans responded. "The rest are all in camps."

The Lieutenant jutted his chin up. "We have one of yours in the back."

The two Germans nodded and walked towards the back of the ambulance with the other officer. Gene and Max stood quietly, unsure of what to do.

"You two okay?" asked the Lieutenant, staring mostly at Gene.

"Yeah," said Gene. "Just bloody brilliant."

"How did you two end up there?"

"Go' blown up," said Max. "Yeh know how sometimes people pass ou' with head wounds? Well, yeah, tha's wha' 'appened ter me, and I'm assumin' tha's wha' 'appened ter 'unt 'ere too. After all, 'is face does look like someone wen' after 'im with a knife."

The man smirked slightly at Max's explanation. "Well, we're going to take you both to a hospital. There you'll be assessed, and it looks like at least you will get to go home," he said, nodding towards Gene. "What are your names?"

"Private Max 'unt," said Max, saluting the officer.

"Private Gene Hunt. I'd salute, but I might fall over. I'm not to steady on these yet," Gene said as Max doubled over in laughter at his statement.

The officer smiled humourlessly as the German came round from the back of the ambulance helping along a man covered in bandages.

"Alright," said the Lieutenant. "Hop into the back...err...sorry. Didn't mean it that way."

Max smirked at Gene who merely nodded at the Lieutenant.

"We'll take you two straight to the hospital."

They both nodded and headed towards the back, where they were helped in by the other officer. He closed the doors, and the ambulance started up. Max relaxed in the back and looked at Gene.

"Yer good as 'ome free. Lucky bastard."

"I'd rather be still fighting here than at home and without a leg."

"Maybe yeh could get somthin', like a fake leg."

"Oh yes, can you see me walking around Manchester with a peg leg?"

"Get an eye patch and yeh'd be a right pirate," Max smiled. "Then yeh could 'ave loads of gold and woo tha' Alex yer always on about."

"I'm not always on about her." It didn't matter though, did it? He was dead in 1982, wasn't he? If he was, he would never see Bolly again.

"Yeah, yeh are. Don' matter though. I'm always on about me Adriana. Speaking of which, could yeh do me a favour?"

"What's that?"

"I'm assumin' I'm not goin' back yet. Yer goin' back up to Manchester, righ'?"

"Yeah. Got nowhere else to go," he said, realisation dawning on what Max wanted him to do.

"Will yeh go visit 'em fer me? Jus' tell 'em tha' I'm doin' okay, an' that I love 'em an' I'll be back soon?"

"Yeah, sure," said Gene, not thinking.

"Thanks mate," said Max smiling. Yeh know, I migh' 'ave to be a complete twat like you an' stan' too near a bomb. I really wan' ter go see my Gene and Stu."

Gene didn't respond. He was going to go see himself as a seven year old? This was just starting to get weird. What would he do when he saw his mam? What would happen if he met his younger self? Max left Gene in his thoughts until they approached the hospital. They were ushered into the recovery area, where the doctors started to look them over. Gene was first. One doctor removed the bandages from his leg.

Even though the doctors had redone the bandages several times a day, Gene never got used to the fact that his leg was gone. It was still a shock to see the stump.

"Your face is a mess," said the doctor, "but you seem to be okay. You'll get to go home in a few days."

Gene nodded. "Would I be able to see a mirror? I haven't seen one since before we landed in Sicily, and since everyone keeps commenting on my face, I'd like to see how bad it really is."

The doctors exchanged glances. "Private Hunt, I'm not sure..."

"Just get me a bloody mirror! I've already lost my god damn leg, how much worse could it get?!"

One of the doctors called a nurse and told her to get a mirror. She nodded and returned with one. Gene pretended not to notice everyone staring at him, took a deep breath, and looked into the mirror.

He didn't recognise the man staring back at him.

His face was a mess of scabs, all of which he knew were going to become scars one day. One pulled down the right corner of his mouth, another pulled up the corner of his left eye. There was another that started at the right corner of his eye and extended across his nose. Gene smiled a bit, he would have the classic 'bad guy scar' now, the one that extended from his eyebrow across his eyelid and down his cheek. The one that transfixed his attention however, was the 'L' shaped wound that ran from the middle of his forehead to his left temple and then down his cheek. He matched his father.

Gene put down the mirror, and looked at the doctors. "This is all from debris?"

"Well, yer face was never normal ter start with," interjected Max. "But yeah, yer face wasn't all screwed up until after the bomb."

Gene picked up the mirror, and traced the 'L' shaped wound. "This is mad."

"Are you going to be okay, Private Hunt?" asked one of the nurses. She was pretty, she had soft brown eyes and blonde hair that was pulled up into a bun. However, Gene didn't want to be disturbed at the moment.

"Yeah. Go away."

"Are you sure?"

"Are you a psychiatrist too?"

"No," the nurse answered. "I'm a psychologist."

"Every single bloody woman I meet," said Gene. "Max, I swear. Every woman I meet is a bloody psychiatrist." He turned his attention back to the nurse. "Now listen, love. There is only one psychiatrist I will talk to, and that happens to be a posh, privately educated toff that fights everything I do! So piss off!"

The nurse gave him a withering look, but Gene was not paying attention, watching as the doctors removed the bandages from Max's face.

"These aren't too deep," said the doctor. Once you heal up a bit more, we'll send you back. Course, you'll be heading to mainland Italy."

"Why's that?" Gene asked.

"Didn't you hear?" the doctor asked. "The Germans are evacuating. I bet its only a matter of weeks before Italy falls."

Yes, it would only be a few weeks. The eighth of September, if Gene remembered correctly. Then on the thirteenth of October, they'd declare war on Germany. Gene shook his head. He was probably remembering everything wrong. Gene relaxed onto the bed. Soon he'd go back to Manchester. Soon he'd be back in the city of his youth.

~(*)~

**20 August, 1943**

Gene moved himself closer and closer to the house of his nightmares. He was only doing this because he had promised Max.

Gene didn't understand. He thought that the scar was the reason behind his father's sudden personality turn. But when he had left, Max was still the same as ever, laughing and taking the piss out of him. He wondered what had led to his father's change in personalities. Gene figured that he really would find out soon. He remembered his father coming home at the end of October. Max would probably find him.

Gene was at the door now. Taking a deep breath, he knocked. He heard footsteps approaching, and the door opened. Gene stared, transfixed, at the woman who had answered the door.

Her sandy blonde hair was in a bun, but Gene remembered that it had hung to her waist. She looked at him, confusion showing in her green eyes.

"Erm...'ello?" she said cautiously.

"Err. Right. Sorry. My name's Gene...Andrews," he said, switching his last name to the first thing he could think of. I was Max's mate when we were in Sicily. He asked me to come talk to you."

"Oh, God," said his mother, tears forming in her eyes. "He's not...?"

"No!" Gene said quickly. "No, he's fine! He asked me to come up and talk to you, since I was released earlier than he was."

Relief showed on his mother's face, and she smiled softly. "Well, please come in. I'll get me boys." She showed him the sitting room, and Gene looked at the familiar setting and smiled.

"I'll be righ' back," his mother said. He heard her yelling in the kitchen, and a few moments later, two young children entered the sitting room, fighting. The bigger of the two had the smaller in a headlock, his face angry.

"Give it back Stu! S'mine!"

"No! I foun' it! It's mine!"

"It was mine firs'! An' I'm the oldes', so I ge' ter decide 'oo ge's it!"

"Bu' yeh keep all the good stuff fer yerself!"

"Yeh should've been born firs'!"

Gene smiled to himself. He remembered having this argument many times with Stu. It always ended in the same way. His mother would walk into the room, tell them that was enough and that if they had to fight over the object, they didn't need it that badly. More often than not, this would result in Stu giving him the object.

As if on cue, his mother entered the room, carrying a tray of tea. "Gene, Stuart! Tha's no way ter behave in fron' o' company! Whatever yer fighting over, if yeh need ter fight over it, then neither of yer need it!"

The two boys stopped fighting immediately, and the older boy glowered at the younger, who then looked down and gave him a toy aeroplane. The older boy smiled smugly, only to have the smirk wiped off his face when his mother stole the toy from his hands.

"Gene, Stu, we 'ave a gues'. 'E came all the way from the war to talk ter us. Yer dad sen' 'im."

Gene noticed his younger self scrutinising him. "Wha' 'appened ter yer face?" he asked loudly.

"An' yer leg!" Stu chimed in.

"Boys! Tha's rude!"

Gene however, merely smiled. As odd as it was to see himself forty years younger, it was entertaining. He did not remember how brash he had been as a child. It had been squashed out of him for so long until his father died, that he couldn't.

"That's okay, Mrs. Hunt," he said. If he remembered right, it was rude to call a woman acquaintance by their first name. He turned to the two boys. The little Gene's eyes shone in excitement, as did Stu's. There was no trace of fear or tension in their eyes. Gene knew that they believed their father would come home safe and sound and be ready to play with them once more. He felt sorry for the children, even though he knew technically, he was only feeling sorry for himself.

"So?" his younger self asked rudely. "Wha' 'appened?"

"Gene!"

"Sorry Mam."

"You know that your father's down in Sicily right?" Gene asked.

"Yeah," said Stu. "'E's down there, an' he's gonna kill all the bad guys! An' then 'e's gonna come back an' teach me footie like 'e taught Gene!"

Gene just smiled sadly. "Well, we were down in Sicily, and then all of a sudden bombs started to fall down on us! I couldn't move, could just stare as they were coming down. Then your father yelled at me, got my attention, and I started running. I couldn't get away fast enough though. The bomb exploded, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up in a German hospital, your father next to me, and I have no leg!"

The two boys gasped. "Did the Germans take it off?" his younger self asked.

"Yeah," said Gene. "But they had to." He remembered now, the searing pain in his leg before he had fallen into unconsciousness. He remembered looking down and seeing something sticking out from his leg. If they had saved his leg, he still wouldn't have been able to walk.

"Wha' abou' dad?" Stu asked. "Wha' 'appened ter 'im?"

"He had some debris from the bomb fall on him. Now he has a scar too," Gene said, pointing to the 'L' shaped one on his head. "It looks like this one. But he's just fine. He asked me to come and let you three know that he misses you. And I know that he did, because he talked about you every day."

The two boys smiled. "Wha's yer name mister?" his younger self asked.

Gene smiled. "I'm Gene. Gene Andrews."

"My name's Gene too!"

"Yes," said his mother standing. "He's my little Geney Weeney." She left the room fill up the tea tray. His younger self looked disgruntled at the mention of his nickname.

"C'mere, Gene," Gene said. The seven-year-old walked cautiously towards him. "I'll let you in on a secret. If you don't like Geney Weeney, try Gene Genie."

The boy looked up at him. "D'you think it'll catch on?"

"One day, there'll be a song written about it," Gene answered honestly, smiling.

His younger self smiled happily. His mother walked back into the room, tray full once more. "Mr. Andrews, do yer 'ave anywhere to stay?"

"No," answered Gene honestly. I was going to find a place to stay the night and then start looking for somewhere to live tomorrow.

"I insis' yer stay 'ere until yeh find a new 'ouse. S'not a problem at all." She smiled at him, as did the two boys.

"Erm, yeah, thanks," said Gene, taken aback. He remembered this, why was he in such shock? Maybe it was because now he _was_ his dad's mysterious partner, instead of being the boy meeting the man.

"I don' mean ter be rude," she said, embarrassed, "but can yer manoeuvre stairs with yer crutches?"

"Yeah," said Gene.

"Good," said his mother. "You'll be sleeping in the bedroom closest ter the stairs."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hunt." He had to be polite in front of her. She was his mother, for God's sake.

"No' a problem at all. Make yerself at 'ome." His mother walked out of the room again.

"_That shouldn't be hard," _Gene thought wryly. He was distracted by someone prodding at his good leg.

Gene looked down to see his younger self standing next to him.

"Can I see yer stump?" the boy asked excitedly.

Gene laughed. The next few days were going to be interesting, that was clear.

**TBC!!! I have to admit, I really missed writing little Gene! Reviews are always appreciated!  
**


	7. The Nightmare Returns

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed, and thanks to Rolephant!**

**Chapter 7: The Nightmare Returns**

**24 October 1943**

Gene woke to the sunshine warming his face. It had been over two months since he had returned to Manchester, and he now had a home of his own. He had bought it quite soon after arriving, choosing the first cheap place he saw. He had some money stowed away in the bank from God only knew where, and Gene found that he could live quite comfortably.

Gene sat up, stretching and rubbing the stump he still had not become accustomed to seeing. He wasn't supposed to leave it bare for long, like overnight, but he couldn't resist. It felt good to take off the bandage at the end of the day, and leave it bare, like taking off shoes what were just a bit too small.

Gene sighed and stood, moving himself to the bathroom. He stepped into the shower, and enjoyed the warm water as it trickled over his head. He still had problems keeping his balance without his crutches. Because of this, Gene had fashioned a sort of bar to hold onto when he started to wobble.

Gene got out of the shower and dried the stump of his leg carefully before grabbing a bandage off the counter. He applied it slowly, making sure to do it exactly as they had shown him at the hospital.

"_If Bolly could see me now," _Gene thought. _"I'm taking orders from a doctor and actually listening to advice!"_

It wasn't his fault that he didn't always listen to her. Some of the stuff she came up with was just mad. Sure, most of the time it worked, but he had a tried and true way of policing. Sam had changed it a bit, but Gene enjoyed being the 'dinosaur' he was described as.

The problem was, he had never lost a leg before. He had never had any experience with it whatsoever. He _had_ to trust the doctors on this, and through their advice, find out a way to manage it himself, to become an expert.

Gene put his trousers and a button up shirt on, and then moved over into the kitchen. There was more than one story in this house, but because of his annoyance with stairs, he tried to stay downstairs as much as possible.

He was making tea when he heard a knock at the door. Gene moved himself to the door and opened it.

"'Ey, yeh useless bastard. Miss me?"

Gene was speechless with shock. Max was standing in front of him.

"Finally. Yeh've learned 'ow to shut up."

"Max!" Gene finally found his voice, searching Max's face. He didn't see the sign of his father. "What are you doing back?!"

"I got blown up again," Max said, but there wasn't a laugh in his voice. Maybe his father was in there. "I flew in the air, an' landed on me face, 'itting my 'ead." He pointed to a giant bruise fading from the right side of his forehead. "They decided I'd 'ad enough apparently, cause a few days after I woke up, I was on me way home."

Gene just stood in the doorway, trying to register the fact that his father was back. He knew immediately, this was the head trauma that his father had been through. Alex was always on about the brain and brain trauma. After working with her for a year, she would probably disown him as her Guv if he didn't know that a blow to the frontal lobe could affect personality.

"Oi. Earth ter Gene. Yeh gonna let me in, or am I jus' gonna stand out 'ere all day?"

"What? Oh right. Come on in. I was just getting ready to make breakfast. You want any?"

"Nah. Adriana made a huge fry up. None of them knew I was comin' 'ome. I knocked on the door, an' when 'Ana opened it, yeh should've seen the look on 'er face!"

"_I did see it," _Gene thought grimly, remembering back to the day his father had come home.

_The strange man named Gene had left the house quickly after he had come. Gene had liked him. There was something vaguely familiar about the man, and no matter what time it was, the man had put up with him following him and asking questions. _

_Gene had been disappointed when he left. It wasn't like he couldn't go and see him; the man had picked a house only a few streets away. It was just that he didn't like to be away from his Mam and baby brother for too long. He was head of the household now, and when his father came back, Gene wanted to make him proud._

_It was October now, and a bite was beginning to be felt in the air. Gene was playing with Stu. Suddenly someone knocked at the door. Gene and Stu both looked up, knowing that only Mam was allowed to open the door. Gene secretly hoped that it was the Gene Andrews again. He had come to visit a few times, mostly spending time with Gene, to his intense delight. Gene would ask him questions. Usually they were normal adult to child questions, but sometimes they would trigger a memory in him, something that he thought that only he knew about. _

_Gene and Stu watched their Mam walk across the room to the door. She opened it, and her mouth dropped open. _

"_Max," she breathed. "You're back."_

_The only thing Gene noticed was that his father wasn't smiling. His father had always smiled, except when angry. Was he angry now? Gene stood back cautiously. He knew that his father had a temper on the rare occasion he did get angry, and he didn't want to cross that._

"_Yes, 'Ana," his father said. "I'm finally back fer good." He embraced her, and noticed the two boys standing in the background quietly._

"_Gene! Stu! C'mere an' give me a 'ug!"_

_Stu ran to his father, immediately wrapping his arms around his neck. His father picked Stu up, causing Stu to squeal in delight. Gene just stood where he was, watching. Being without his father for nearly four years had made him cautious and alert to everyone. He gained the ability to read people, even though he was so young. Not many people would have gotten the same treatment from him that Gene Andrews got. _

_Gene had always trusted his instinct, and right now, it was telling him one thing. This wasn't his dad anymore. There was something different. And it wasn't just the scar that now ran across his father's features. There was something else to it, something he couldn't yet place. _

_His father put Stu down, and looked to where Gene was still standing._

"_Gene! Don' yeh remember yer father? C'mere!"_

_Gene walked up slowly, still not trusting this man. His father wrapped him in an embrace, and Gene returned it, his heart not really in it. His father released him, and looked at Mam._

"_I need a drink, Adriana."_

_A drink? It was early afternoon. His father didn't drink until later in the night, usually after he and Stu had gone to bed. _

"_A drink, Max?" his Mam questioned, obviously thinking along the same lines as Gene._

"_Yes, 'Ana! A drink. I've been through 'ell fer the past few months, an' I want a drink." His father's voice was dangerous. Gene's mam ran from the room, getting his father a drink before he got any angrier._

_~(*)~_

_By the time that it was Gene's bedtime, it was clear that this man was not his father. After draining his first glass of scotch, he had downed several others, becoming more and more inebriated as the night wore on. _

_Gene was sitting by the fire contentedly when his mother called his name from the stairs. _

"_Gene, it's time to go to bed," she called before moving back to the second level._

_Not wanting to move from his warm spot, Gene groaned._

"_Are yeh disobeyin' yer mother, Gene?" his father yelled drunkenly. "I'll teach yer a lesson abou' tha'!"_

_His father stood from the chair, swaying as he walked towards the fireplace, pulling Gene to his feet._

"_Don' EVER disrespect yer mother! Go' it?" His father smacked him in the face. Gene accepted the blow and looked down at the floor._

"_Oi! I asked yer if yer understood!" His father's hands bunched up into fists, finding Gene's stomach._

"_Yes!" Gene gasped. "I understand!"_

"_Are yeh back talking ter me now?"his father yelled. "How dare yeh, yeh li'l shit! I'll teach yeh a lesson in respect, Gene!"_

_His father charged him, knocking him to the floor. Gene lay, whimpering, as his father drove kick after kick into his stomach. _

_His mother had come down at that moment, protesting loudly. _

"_Max! There's no need to..." SMACK! His father turned and hit her soundly in the face._

"_I'm disciplinin' my child, 'Ana. Don' tell me the proper way ter do tha'. Le' me guess. While I've been gone, 'e 'asn't even received a wallop on 'is arse, 'as he?"_

"_No," Gene said desperately. "I did..."_

"_DID I SAY YOU COULD TALK?!" his father roared, kicking him once more in the stomach._

"_Max..." his mother pleaded._

"_Go to bed," his father said dangerously. "Now."_

_Gene struggled to his feet, and ran up the stairs quickly, tears streaming from his eyes. He had known something was wrong since the moment his father entered the house. Gene knew in that moment, as he laid himself down next to the sleeping Stu, that he would get out of that house as soon as he could, away from his father. And he knew that one day, he'd become a copper. Then he'd come back and arrest his father. Gene smiled softly to himself, although his stomach still ached. He was going to become the greatest copper ever, and even people down in London would know his name._

_~(*)~_

Gene looked back at the man sitting at the table. "Adriana said my Gene's taken a shine ter yeh."

"I dunno," said Gene. "I visited them like you asked me, and he was interested in hearing about the war. Wouldn't stop asking me questions about it."

"Tha's odd. Yesterday, 'e 'ardly would say two words ter me."

"Really?" Gene tried to be surprised.

"Yeah," said Max. "Bugger used ter be impossible ter shut up. Yeh didn't tell 'im 'orror stories about me while I was still in Italy, did yer?"

Gene tried to judge his father's mood. It didn't seem like he was kidding at all.

"No," said Gene honestly. "I visited them a few times. Kept him company a bit. He really missed you."

Max nodded silently. "Then what's turned 'im against me?"

"_Maybe it's that you beat him to a bloody pulp," _Gene thought, but didn't dare say aloud.

"Yeh know, 'Ana said that yeh spen' the most time with my Gene, an' tha' yer changed yer las' name ter Andrews. Why'd yeh do that?"

Gene thought quickly. He didn't want to anger this man at all. "Gene followed me, asking questions. I didn't mind at all. I actually enjoyed his company. You've got a smart kid there," he said.

"Tha' only answers one of my questions. Why'd yeh change yer surname?"

"Well, you were shocked by the fact that I had the same name as your son. How would you feel if some man came home from the war claiming that he had your name and was your father's best mate?"

Max nodded. "I see yer point, 'unt. Good idea, bu' now I can' call yer 'unt round me family."

"You'll never talk about me," Gene said without realising it.

"Well yeah, cause yeh went and changed yer name on me," he said. No smile crossed his lips, and Gene knew if they were still in Italy, there would have been a wide one crossing his face by now.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Gene asked sarcastically. He was amazed that he could still have this slightly playful banter with his father, even though this man was no longer the mate he had known.

"Yeah, 'unt," Max said, standing up. "On one condition."

"What's that?" Gene asked.

"Stay the 'ell away from my family." With that final statement, Max left, slamming the door behind him.

Gene swallowed. His father was back for another nine years, and there was nothing Gene could do to stop the fury.

**TBC! Reviews are always appreciated**


	8. Talking With Myself

**This chapter is dedicated to Rolephant, who has actually contributed one line in this chap. :D Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed!**

**Chapter 8: Talking to Myself**

**July, 1946**

It had been two and a half years since Max had told Gene to stay away from his family. Gene was only too happy to comply. He remembered the full hell that had appeared after his father's return, and though he felt bad for himself, he knew that his adult presence would only make everything worse.

So Gene stayed away.

He knew now, however, that there was an addition to his life. It was July, Lexi would have come in to his life several months earlier. However, there was something preventing him from finding her just to say hello. When he had realised that he was in 1943, the last thing he wanted was to find everyone from his past. He had been forced together with the only person he wanted back besides Lexi. He had been forced to be partners with his _dad._ Not his father, the cruel, sadistic man that he remembered, but his dad, the one that taught him footie and laughed, the one that he now remembered existed.

Gene knew that his father had not always been that terrible, but it was a distant memory when he was telling Alex about it in the hospital.

Gene moved himself past the front window, looking out at the bright day outside. It was only four years until the day that he would nearly die for the first time. The day he would go to live with Lexi. The day when he would be free of his father, at least physically, forever.

Gene let himself out into the early afternoon sunshine. He remembered the park so close to his house. Maybe he could go there, and enjoy the day. Gene went back inside, and grabbed a flask of whiskey. Might as well enjoy a good drink as well as a nice day.

Gene manoeuvred his way down to the park. He was doing fine now without his leg, finally accustomed to seeing the stump of his left leg. He found he could now move quite normally, but without his crutches, he could not move an inch. Gene had never been good at hopping as a child. He would always lose his balance, and if he tried to move without the crutches now, he knew he'd fall over.

Gene finally made it to the park, and settled himself in the grass, content with just watching people wander. He smiled as he remembered one of the last times he'd been here willingly. He had met a young Chris and Ray, and scared the shit out of Ray. His grin grew wider as he remembered Ray's first day in CID, realising that Gene was his DI. Gene didn't remember Ray at all, but Ray's face had clouded in fear, and it took him a good several months before he was able to talk to Gene.

Only a few years later, Chris had joined CID. Gene had no recollection of him either, but Chris stuck to him, following him everywhere. Gene grew quite annoyed with this and yelled at Chris more than a few times, but to no avail. Chris still followed him around like a lost puppy.

Gene sighed and took a long drink of whiskey. When he put his flask down, he was surprised to see a young boy of ten watching him.

"Gene. How are you?"

"Yer a drunk, jus' like 'im," his younger self said, betrayal in his voice.

"No, Gene," Gene said hurriedly. "I'm not."

"Then 'ow do yeh explain that?" the ten year old asked, nodding toward the flask in Gene's hands.

"Not all people who drink alcohol drink like your father, Gene."

"'Ow did yer know I was talking about my father?"

Gene stared at himself, amazed at his intuition and ability to pick up on things as a child. He had no idea that he was like that as a child. He thought quickly trying to come up with a reason.

"Your father came to visit me after he came back."

"Why 'aven't yer come ter visit? Weren' yeh 'is mate in the war?"

"He doesn't like me talking to you, Gene." He didn't care about being brutally honest with his younger self. By ten, he was already plotting his escape and only obeyed his father when he was around.

"Well, why not? Yer not a bad sort."

Gene smiled softly. "Thanks. But I think he thinks that I'm trying to take over his place as father."

"Tha's shit!" his younger self said, before quickly looking around. "Sorry. I'm not supposed ter say tha'. Mam'd kill me if she knew, an' so would Lexi."

"Lexi?" Gene questioned as his stomach jumped.

"Yeah. She jus' turned up one day. I fished 'er outta the river." Gene almost laughed as he saw his younger self's chest swelling up with pride. "Though' she was gonna die for a bit though."

"Why's that?" He knew the answer; he just enjoyed talking to himself.

"She was 'alf drowned. Dunno 'ow she got in the river, bu' she 'ad 'it 'er 'ead somewhere along the way."

"She was lucky you were there then." The boy's chest swelled proudly again. God, it was a good thing Alex couldn't see him stroking his ten year old self's ego. She'd tell him his head wouldn't fit through the door.

"She's posh too. Proper posh. She's go' the accent an' everything. 'Er name's _Alexandra._"

"Alexandra? That is posh. You know, I knew an Alexandra."

"Was she posh too?" the boy asked excitedly.

"Yep," said Gene smiling at his younger self. "Only she didn't like to be called Alexandra."

"Neither does Lexi. Don' fit 'er anyway. Did yeh call yer Alexandra Lexi too?"

"No," Gene said, already anticipating the reaction of his younger self. "I called her Alex."

The little Gene wrinkled his nose and looked up at him disbelievingly. "Why did she wan' ter be called Alex? Why does she wan' ter be called a boy's name?"

"I never thought to ask her that." It was true. But because of how times had changed in forty years, he didn't really give it a second thought when he realised that Alex Drake was a woman. He had given much thought on how little he wanted a woman DI, and more than once had wished that she was a man. Maybe then she wouldn't be so annoying. Gene smiled to himself.

He knew that it wouldn't be the same if Alex wasn't bossy and annoying and always on about psychology. It had annoyed him a lot when she first arrived, but he had grown to like it, and had even admitted it to her whilst she lay in her coma.

"Where is she now?" Gene was looking up at him curiously.

Gene thought about this carefully. He couldn't say that she was in the future. Then his younger self would think that he was just a madman. He grinned as he remembered his first ever conversation with Lexi.

"She's a long way away. Too far to reach by phone, or even post."

The boy frowned at Gene. "Yer sure tha' this woman wen' by Alex? Cause yeh sound exactly like Lexi. She said she was travelling with a man, an' 'e was too far away ter reach by phone or post. She never said 'is name, although she said mine while she was still unconscious."

"She did?" Gene remembered that. It had scared the living hell out of him.

"Yeah. Bu' if she's yer Lexi, then wha' if she was sayin' yer name?"

Gene smiled at his logic. "That would make sense, wouldn't it? But unfortunately, my Alexandra went by Alex."

"Well, Lexi never said tha' she didn' go by Alex. I don' call 'er tha', and neither does anyone else aroun' 'ere. She jus' refuses ter go by Alexandra. She doesn' act like mos' posh people. She's no' all snobbish. An' you said yer _Alex_ didn' like ter go by Alexandra. It makes perfec' sense!"

Gene almost laughed. He could see how it could all work out in his ten year old head. Unfortunately, Alex was in 1982, and he was stuck here. He was either dead or dying in 1982. He hadn't heard anything since that dream nearly three years ago. And even if this was Alex's coma world, she had been here before him. It would have been a time before Gene had come. Maybe the early 1940's or late 1930's. Their paths wouldn't cross. Unless Alex went into another coma because he wasn't there to protect her. And if that happened, he would never stop blaming himself.

"Yeh don' believe me," he heard his younger self say angrily. "Why don' adults ever believe anythin' I say? Mam doesn', yeh don', the only one 'oo ever believes me is Lexi."

"I see how it works out, Gene," Gene said. "But I just don't think that your Lexi is my Alex."

"Well, yeh wouldn' know until yeh've seen 'er would yeh? She used ter 'ave brown 'air, but now she's blonde. Dunno why she changed it. I though' she looked better as a brunette."

Gene stared at himself, amazed at how quickly he had changed the topic to colour of hair. Then he realised that his ten year old self was talking about _hair colour._

"You might want to do yourself a favour," Gene said. "Don't talk about women changing their hair colour in front of anyone else okay?"

"Why not?" Gene almost laughed as he saw himself form a pout. So that's what he looked like! He had to admit, that it did work, and made a resolution to do that more often if he was still alive in 1982. He had lured girls in with the pout when he was younger, maybe he could lure Alex in too. For good though. He didn't want just one night with her.

"Well, if you get a girl talking about the colour of her hair, she'll never stop. They don't ever shut their yaps."

His younger self laughed, and Gene smiled.

"Secondly, men don't want to hear you talking about women changing their hair colour, because they hear enough of that from their wives or girlfriends."

The boy smiled at him. The real reason that Gene didn't want to explain to himself was that the boy sounded like a poof, and he couldn't stand sounding like one even when he was a kid. Alex would have gotten after him for that, he knew it, but Gene didn't care. He had to preserve his dignity.

Gene pulled himself back to awareness to see the boy staring at him quizzically. "I 'ave a question," he announced.

"What's that?"

"Yeh said my dad was fine when yeh left, bu' when 'e came back, 'e was a drunk, an'...an'..."

"He beats you," Gene said, finishing the sentence for him.

Gene looked up at him guiltily. "'Ow did yer know?"

Gene smiled sadly and looked pointedly at the arm of his younger self. The boy looked down and hastily covered up a dark bruise on his arm.

"I'll tell you the truth, Gene. He was fine when I left. It was after I left that he turned into the monster you know now."

"S'not fair. I jus' wan' me dad back. Bu' 'e's never gonna come back, is 'e?"

Gene saw no reason in lying to himself. "No. He's not. And I am really sorry about that, Gene."

"S'not yer fault. Yeh didn' blow 'im up," the boy said dejectedly.

"Just listen to me, Gene. Lexi, your Lexi will always be there for you. No matter what your dad does."

"'Ow do yeh know? Yeh don' even know Lexi!"

"Think back to what you've said to me over the conversation," Gene said, thinking quickly again. God, talking to his younger self about the future without sounding mad was difficult! He watched as the boy thought for a few minutes.

"Yeah, I think yer righ'. Lexi's the only one tha' understan's wha' I tell 'er."

Gene just smiled in return, and turned as he heard an all too familiar voice call his name. The voice he wanted to hear. Gene turned, and his younger self stood.

"I'm over 'ere Lexi!" he waved.

Gene stared in amazement as the woman from his childhood walked over.

"Gene, I couldn't find you anywhere! I told you to tell me where you were going!" she scolded.

"Sorry, Lexi. I saw Gene 'ere, an' I 'ad ter talk ter 'im."

Lexi did a double take, as did Gene. She looked and sounded exactly like Alex, except for the hair of course. Gene struggled to his feet, and extended his hand.

"Gene Andrews," he said.

"Lexi Wickham," she replied, studying his face. "You were in the war, I'm assuming?"

"Yeah. Got my leg blown right off."

"No 'e didn'! The Germans took it off!" his younger self yelled.

Gene smiled. "Well, yeah, he's more accurate. I was his dad's mate, before I came back."

Lexi cocked an eyebrow, a gesture he remembered her doing when she was questioning something, a gesture Alex did all the time.

"Before?"

"Before he turned into the man he is now." A look of comprehension filled Lexi's face. Could this be Alex? No. There was no possible way. This was _his _coma world. They couldn't share a world, could they?

"I see," she said, still studying his face.

"Why are you staring at Gene?" his ten year old self asked loudly.

"What? Oh I'm sorry. Your face just reminded me of someone. But there's no possible way. Anyway, we've got to go. C'mon Gene. It was lovely to meet you Mr. Andrews."

"And you Miss Wickham," Gene answered. Lexi started to leave, but his younger self stuck around for a moment.

"So?" he whispered excitedly. "Was it 'er?"

"No, Gene," Gene replied. "I don't think so."

"Oh, okay," the boy said dejectedly, before running to catch up with Lexi who had just turned to see where he was.

Lexi couldn't be Alex. There was no way. Or was there? Shaking his head, Gene returned home for the night.

**TBC! Reviews are always appreciated:)**


	9. It's the Woman With Him

**Thank you to everyone who's reviewed! Thanks to Rolephant!**

**Chapter 9: It's the Woman With Him**

**August, 1948**

Two more years had flown by, and Gene was convinced that he was dead in 1982. He hadn't fought death, he hadn't known how. He had failed Alex. There was nothing left to hope for, so he just lived.

It was a nice day, and Gene headed to the park again. Some days he would see Lexi and Gene in the park and they would come over and talk. It was odd, knowing Lexi as a forty-six year old. She had seemed more motherly when he was a child, but now she was different. Gene knew part of that was because she was looking at him as an equal, instead of as adult to child. She had been different when he was older too. When she had come to his flat just before she had died, she had treated him like an equal. He had still considered her like a mother then, but now, she just seemed so much different. Maybe it was because he knew Alex know. She was so much like Alex.

Gene could not convince himself that they were the same person, no matter how much his younger self believed that Lexi was the Alex he had left behind. How could he explain that Alex was in 1982 without sounding like a madman? Gene knew he couldn't, so he just stayed quiet, letting his younger self believe what he wanted.

As he rested in his usual spot, something came up and attacked him from behind.

"Gene!" he heard a voice say, reprimanding the boy who had attacked his back. He knew immediately it was Lexi. He couldn't forget her voice. And by hearing her voice, he could hear Alex's too. This disturbed him. How could these two be _so _similar? Unless, because he was inside his head, he made Lexi take on Alex's voice. Alex was posh, so was Lexi. They already had looks in common, why not just match their voices too? Gene nodded to himself. It made perfect sense. He had made Lexi take on some of the characteristics of Alex. That was why he felt some kind of pull to her, that wasn't child to mother.

The weight lifted off his back, and his younger self appeared, smiling. "'Ey, Gene."

"You better watch out next time. I might just have to leap to my foot and chase you," Gene said.

"I'd be terrified," the twelve-year-old remarked dryly.

"I'm sure we all would," Lexi said, covering up a laugh.

"Are you laughing at me?" Gene said, pretending to get angry. "I'll have you know, that..."

"You are the most fearsome man ever, that you're very manly, and that you could catch me with one hand tied behind your back," Lexi finished. "Yes, Mr. Andrews. I've heard it all before. Maybe not out of your mouth, but you don't have to worry. I _have _heard it. I hope to hear it again."

"Oh yeah?" Gene questioned. "Who from?"

"The man she was travelin' with. The one she came ter Manchester with, but lost when she plopped 'erself in the river," the twelve year old in front of him responded, smiling innocently at Lexi.

"I did not throw myself in the river, Gene," she said, mock sternly.

"'Ow didja ge' in there then?"

"I don't remember," she answered honestly.

"That's to be expected," Gene said, breaking into the conversation. "You hit your head on a rock or something. Memory loss can happen."

Lexi stared at him, trying to figure him out. "How did you know that?" she whispered.

Gene looked back, trying to hide the horror on his face. His younger self had never told him about her hitting her head on a rock, and if Gene said that he did, he knew his younger self would deny it, just to watch him squirm more.

"Err..." Gene said, trying to figure out what to say. He looked between his younger self and Lexi. The boy was leaning on his elbows, a bruise darkening on his cheek. He'd have many more, Gene thought darkly to himself. The boy's head was cocked, as if trying to figure something out.

"Yer know, Lex, Gene may 'ave yeh beat in yer psychology bollocks." She looked at the boy, her eyebrow cocked. He immediately looked down. "Sorry for saying bollocks," he muttered. "Oh, sorry again."

Gene tried to suppress a smirk, but couldn't. Lexi looked at him. "Don't do that! You'll only encourage him!"

"Oh give up. He's a man. He's gonna grow up and say those swear words everywhere," Gene grinned.

"Not in front of women," she said, arguing with him. Was it just him, or did he see a small smirk as she said that?

"Maybe. If women get all shouty, and start swearing at him, he is perfectly within his rights to utter a curse or two. Just cursing, mind," he said, looking at his younger self, who was watching them as though they were an entertaining film.

"Mr. Andrews, you are getting in the way of me teaching him manners!"

"Yeh don' teach me manners, Lexi! Yeh laugh at it most o' the time, 'cept when we're out in public!" the boy yelled, causing Gene to laugh out loud.

"Gene Hunt, I swear, I will never win an argument with you butting in halfway through," she said sternly, but the smile betraying her true feelings. His twelve year old self just grinned at her innocently.

"I 'ave no idea wha' yer talkin' about, Lex."

"You're impossible, you are," she said, sighing. "Always will be too, I bet." Lexi looked at her watch. "It's about time you got home, Gene. You said your father wasn't happy with what time you got home yesterday."

Immediately, the boy's face clouded, and his head started hanging. "Don' wan' ter go back. Why can' I jus' stay with you?" he asked.

"I couldn't do that to your mother," Lexi replied honestly. "Otherwise, you know I'd take you in in a heartbeat."

"Yeah," said the boy, face still gloomy. "I'll see yer later, Lexi. Gene." He walked off glumly, and Gene's heart hurt, watching him going out of the park. Gene knew what was waiting when he got to the house. An angry father, a crying brother, and most likely a beating for no reason.

"Poor boy," Lexi sighed, sitting back down on the ground. "I hate making him go home."

"He hates going," Gene commented.

"I know," she said sadly. "I just wish there was a way to get him out of there."

"There'll be a way sometime," Gene promised. "You just have to wait for the opportune moment."

"You're quite an optimist, aren't you, Mr. Andrews?" she asked, looking at him.

"Gene," he said. "At least when Gene is not around."

"Gene," she said. "I guess I can call you Gene. But only if you call me Lexi."

"Shouldn't be too much of a problem," Gene said, smiling inwardly.

"So, Gene," she said. "Where did you get all your psychological insight?"

"I had a mate," he answered, knowing that he couldn't elucidate too much on the subject. "Back before the war." Well that was true, wasn't it? He knew Alex before he fought in the war. "They taught me everything I know, which isn't much."

"You're very modest, Gene."

"Not many people would say that. Especially not..." Gene trailed off.

"Who?" Could he answer her? She seemed to be able to predict what would happen to him in her letter. But answering her would mean bringing up more about Alex, more about the woman he could never see again. He had died on her.

"I...had a... friend."

"Ahh another friend," Lexi said, knowingly. "What was her name?"

"How did you know it was a girl?"

"Psychological insight."

"Psychiatrical bollocks, more like," he muttered.

"Now you sound just like..." Lexi trailed off.

"Ooh. Now who are _you _talking about, Lexi?"

"The man, the one I was travelling with," she responded. He didn't believe in psychology. Or psychiatry either. He just liked to make fun of them."

"Well, they are a bit odd to hear about," Gene said honestly. "When my mate first came in spouting that I thought...he...was mad." Why did he need to censor everything from her? He had always been able to tell her everything when he was a child.

"A lot of people still think that," she said.

Gene checked his watch. "'S teatime. You want to come over and join me?"

She looked up at him, shocked.

"Just a friendly thing, Lexi. I swear. There's only one woman for me." Lexi smiled softly, so reminiscent of when Alex would smile at him like that.

"Then, Gene Andrews, I would love to."

~(*)~

After tea, they had gotten a bottle of whiskey out. Gene was surprised at how easily she accepted him; they spent the night like two mates, talking about their lives, and taking the piss out of one another. Slowly, the whiskey bottle drained itself to its last few drops. Gene looked down at it mournfully.

"You drank all my bloody whiskey, woman."

Lexi surveyed him drunkenly. It was a surprise to see how much she actually drank. Gene didn't think she had drunk that much when he had lived with her. Maybe she cut back until he was out of the house, back with his own family.

"S'your fault. If you hadn't gotten out the whiskey, we wouldn't be pissed."

"I...I am not pissed," Gene replied, his words slurring together. "You, woman, are pissed."

"Why do you keep calling me woman?" she asked, her words just as slurred as his.

"Cause it's easier than saying Le...Lex...Lexi. D'you really want me to say that, Le...Lex...Lexi?"

"No," she smiled. "I think you're okay to call me woman for now."

"See, you're lucky I have an easy name," Gene said. "S'not so hard to say Gene."

"I don't see how Lexi is hard in any way." Lexi looked up at the clock. "Good...God. I have to go. S'late."

"No, woman," he said. "You're pissed. You'd never make it home."

"I can't stay here."

"Yeah. You can have my bed, I'll kip on the sofa," he responded generously.

"No," she slurred. "You go to your bed. I can't move off the sofa."

Gene laughed. "You're sure?"

"Stop being a gentleman and go to bed!" Gene laughed loudly, standing up unsteadily.

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "Night Bolly," he said unthinkingly.

He didn't notice her stare as her lips mouthed the word. Gene got himself to the bedroom without falling over, which was a miracle for all the directions his crutches seemed to go. Unthinkingly, he stripped off his shirt and vest before falling onto the bed, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

~(*)~

Gene woke the next morning to the click of his bedroom door closing. He got up immediately; trying to figure out who the hell was in his house. The amount of alcohol he had drunk the night before was present in a massive hangover, and the fact that he couldn't remember the night before. He stepped out of his room and surveyed the sitting room. There was a blanket on the sofa, and the pillows had an indent of someone else's head. Who stayed last night on the sofa? Gene searched his memory. He could not remember. Suddenly, he heard a toilet flush, and manoeuvred himself to the toilet as the door opened.

"Gene," Lexi said.

"You're still here?" he asked, not rudely, just confused.

"I think I passed out here," she said. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"It's okay," Gene said, not noticing her staring at him in shock.

"My god," she whispered. "What happened to your chest?"

Gene looked down. He didn't remember stripping his shirt and vest off, but now his chest was bare, exposing the scar that ran across his torso.

"_I suppose I should be lucky I didn't decide to strip off my trousers too," _he thought dryly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, knowing that he shouldn't be showing her his chest. She didn't seem to acknowledge him, running her hand down the prominent scar.

"Gene, this is awful. What happened?"

He couldn't tell her about his father, then she could place it in two years when it happened again. "War," he grunted, thinking quickly. He knew she wouldn't talk to Max. Max hadn't liked her for the few weeks she was in his house; he certainly didn't try to create a friendship with her.

"You poor man," Lexi said. "It must have been awful."

"It was," Gene answered honestly. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go put on a shirt."

She nodded, and Gene went back into his bedroom, knowing that come night, he would dream about his father.

**TBC! Reviews are appreciated!**


	10. Kiss My Eyes and Lay Me to Sleep

**Aah, chapter 10. This has gone by fast! Anyway, thanks to you who have reviewed, and to Rolephant as always :)**

**Chapter 10: Kiss My Eyes and Lay Me to Sleep**

_He was in a church, dressed well, in one of his best suits. Gene looked down, puzzled. How had he gotten here? He was pretty sure this church was not in Manchester. Not that he'd exactly been in too many before. His tie was black, and his shirt was stark and white. Gene felt his hair, it was immaculately combed. _

_At the front of the church, a casket sat, lid opened. Who was in it? Was it someone he knew? Gene looked around at the people near it. Chris was there, as were Shaz and Ray. He didn't see Bolly. Could that mean...?_

_Gene started walking towards the front of the church, pausing as he listened in on the conversation between the three. _

"_...really unexpected."_

"_Of course it was, you div," Ray said, scoffing at Chris. "No one really imagined this, did they?" He glared at Shaz, as if daring her to admit that she had imagined it._

"_Poor Alex," Shaz sighed. Gene's heart dropped. It was Alex in there? He started to rush forward when Ray spoke again._

"_Is she coming?" _

"_Yeah. But she's been in a right state, poor thing. So, Ray Carling, be on your best behaviour."_

_He glowered at her. "Of course, what do you think I'm going to say? 'Gosh Alex, I sure am sorry that your lover went and snuffed it?'"_

"_Thanks Ray," came a dry voice from behind them. Gene jumped in surprise, and turned around to see Alex, dressed in a simple black dress, her face drawn with grief. _

"_Ma'am!" Ray exclaimed. "I...I didn't..."_

"_I realise you didn't mean it Ray."_

_Her voice was so flat. Where was the passion? The emotion that had made her Bolly? Where was her fire? Gene searched her face, but it was blank, a mask of sadness. The other three in the room receded, apparently to leave her alone with the person in the casket. Gene walked behind her, and listened as she talked to the still form within._

"_You were supposed to fight. Why didn't you? I had something I wanted to tell you." She put her hand within the casket, apparently brushing the person's face. "It's all my fault you're gone. I'm sorry Gene."_

_No. It couldn't be true! He couldn't have left her! He couldn't really be dead! Gene ran forward, toward the casket, and froze. He was in the casket. His face, solemn and still was the face of the man Ray had called her lover. Had she really loved him? There was no way to know now. He was dead. Gene placed his hand on her shoulder once more._

"_I'm so sorry, Alex," he whispered. She didn't acknowledge him, didn't notice his words. _

"_Bastard," she muttered. "You didn't even fight!"_

_He felt a drop of liquid on his face. Gene brushed it off, and realised it was her tears. He looked at her and realised that he was laying in the coffin, staring at her standing over him. He was dead. And there was nothing now he could do about it._

_~(*)~_

"ALEX!" he woke, screaming. He was immediately overrun with guilt. How could he have done that to Alex? He had died on her! There was no excuse for that. He should have fought harder, but he had had no idea how. How was he supposed to fight a stab wound in 1982 if he was stuck here, in 1949?

Gene had little hope he would ever meet her in the future. He remembered Gene Andrews visiting in his youth, the times at the park with Lexi, but then he had disappeared. Gene was unsure of the year. Would he die now in 1949 because he was dead in 1982? Gene knew that he would have to wait and see.

He stood, wide awake, and covered with sweat, and looked out the window. The sun was just rising. It had to be early yet. Gene dressed, and not caring of the time, left, heading straight for the river. He never tried to come to his favourite spot, the spot where he had found Lexi. It was too likely that he would see his younger self there. Though he did not mind talking, Gene knew that he could not explain to his younger self why that spot was so important to him.

Gene went straight to that spot. No one was out, and he revelled in the solitude. The air was quiet. The only sound was the rush of water as it ran past him, and he didn't mind. Gene took off his boot and sock, and rolled up his pant leg, daring to dip his foot in the cold water.

It was relaxing, calming, reassuring. He had always known he could never have Alex. She was too posh for him. Too good, too smart, too beautiful. What was he? Sam had described it perfectly.

"_An overweight, over-the-hill, nicotine-stained, borderline-alcoholic homophobe with a superiority complex and an unhealthy obsession with male bonding."_

How could she ever fall in love with a man like him? When he had fallen for her, hoped she'd realise how he felt, he knew he was just deluding himself.

"Up early, yeh are." Gene knew that voice before he even turned around.

"Gene," he said, not turning. "What are you doing here?"

"I like ter come down 'ere 'fore everyone else in the 'ouse wakes up. I like my personal time, an' they don' seem ter get that."

"I understand that. And here I am, in your favourite spot, taking that away," Gene said.

"No, Gene. S'fine. There's something about yeh. S'different from everyone else. Yeh seem ter think the way I do sometimes. S'like yeh know me or summat. It's like Lexi. She's seemed like that since the day she woke up from almost drowning."

"You were worried about her," Gene stated simply. "But you'd never met her."

"Yeah, I was. I dunno why either. Maybe cause I though' she'd make my father righ', like I've 'oped when anyone new comes inter me life. But no one can change 'im. 'E's a bastard, an' tha's all 'e's ever gonna be."

"You can't forget the man he was before."

"Tha's the thing though. I 'ardly knew 'im. I saw 'im when 'e was on leave sometimes, but that was it. I didn't know 'im really after I was three."

"I'll tell you this now, Gene. You probably won't remember this, but I have to say it all the same. When I was in the war with him, when he talked about you, his face shone. He was so proud that he was the father of Gene and Stu Hunt. One of the first things he did was show me a photo of you and Stu. When we would finish for the day, he'd talk about going back to see you. After we were blown up, he said that he wanted to stand next to another, just to see you two."

"An' 'e did, an' 'e ended up like this," the thirteen-year-old said bitterly.

"Yeah, he is a bit of a twat. If I were him, I would have been running from that bomb as quickly as possible."

"Yeh get scared, Gene?" Gene knew what his answer would be to anyone else, but this was himself. He could not lie to himself anymore.

"Yes, Gene. I do. What about you?"

"Yeah. I do. I can' show it. My father'll jus' say I'm sof', and beat me, but I'm scared of _'im_, Gene. Wha' if one day 'e kills me? Or Mam? Or Stu?"

Gene stared at himself in amazement. He had no answer for this child that was going through more hell than any child ever should.

"One day, Gene, the world will right itself, and your father will get what's coming to him. You'll have to head the family then, and life will seem shit, but really, its better than you can think. You'll be afraid that if you acknowledge that it really is good, everything will fall apart. You'll have a best mate, a girl, everything you've ever wanted. But then, because you can't acknowledge it, it'll all fall apart anyway."

"My life's gonna be shit, innit?" Gene said, miserably.

"It'll seem like that. But then, just when you are at the brink of throwing yourself in the Thames, everything will look up. A new woman, one much different from your wife will come into your life."

"An' what'll 'appen from there?"

"That's up to you," Gene said. He didn't want to how awful some parts of his life had been to the kid. Then he would have no hope left whatsoever.

The boy smiled at him. "Yer jus' talkin' from yer life experiences, aren' yeh?"

Gene smiled. "Yeah," he answered honestly.

"If yer miss yer Alex tha' much, go find 'er Gene. Tell 'er 'ow yeh feel."

Gene smiled at this boy, who could boldly state what he should have done in 1982. One that was so bold now would become so shy in thirty years, hiding behind a dinosaur like, loud exterior, just afraid of being hurt.

There was the sound of footsteps from behind them. "Gene, c'mon, it's time for breakfast."

Both turned, to stare at Adriana Hunt. She was more drawn than Gene remembered.

"Mr. Andrews. What are you doing here?"

"Hello Mrs. Hunt. I just came down here to think. I like to do that in the mornings."

She nodded at him. "It was good to see you again. I'd invite you in, but you know how Max has gotten. C'mon Gene."

The boy left, and Gene started to head home. Halfway there, he became aware of someone shouting his name.

"'UNT! OI! 'UNT!"

Gene turned, to see his father storming towards him, face contorted in fury. Max stopped in front of him, and knocked his crutches out from under him.

"Yer sleepin' with 'er aren't yeh? Yer sleepin' with my Adriana! 'Ow could yeh, yeh stupid bastard?!"

"No, Max. I haven't slept with her!" Gene said, panicked. "I would never sleep with her, I swear!"

"Bullshit 'unt." Gene was struggling to stand. He never really noticed anymore how much weight he actually put on his crutches. Max noticed the problems he was having, and with a cruel grin kicked Gene's leg. Gene fell to the ground, realising what was happening. His father had transformed him into the helpless fourteen year old, only this wasn't in his nightmares. This was real.

"I'm gonna make yeh pay fer this 'unt. There are some lines yeh NEVER cross, and sleepin' with yer mate's wife is one of 'em." Max lapsed into silence, focussing all his attention on giving Gene a sound beating.

"Yeh know what they say 'unt? 'Fer the wages o' sin is death.' I find yeh sleepin' with my wife a 'sin', don' you?" Max pulled out a knife.

"No! I didn't sleep with her! Listen to me Max! I didn't!" Why could his father always do this to him? He had been reduced to a quivering, pleading heap.

"Tha's bullshit! An' yeh know it as well as I do! Screw you 'unt!"

Max descended on him in that moment, lunging at him with the knife. Gene felt the blade enter into his stomach. He gasped in pain as Max laughed evilly. "'Ave fun in 'ell."

With those final words, Max left, leaving Gene gasping on the ground, waiting for the darkness to claim him.

"Gene?" A soft voice called his name. He looked around for the voice. A figure knelt down beside him. "What happened to you?"

Gene looked at the face of the person who had knelt next to him. "Lexi," he gasped. "Max..."

"Shh. Don't talk Gene."

"I'm gonna die. Dead in 1949...and in..." In 1982. He couldn't say it to Lexi. 1982. Alex. He had left Alex.

"I left her behind. Failed her."

"Who, Gene?" It was harder to speak, to know what he had said to Lexi.

"Her. I'm supposed...to fight death...like I did her." He had said Alex, right?

"Then fight for her Gene. C'mon, stay with me."

Gene tried. He fought the blackness closing in on his vision with all his strength. No matter how hard he fought, however, it seemed as though each breath was more difficult. The feeling changed now. He was completely numb, staring up at Lexi.

"Mm'sorry. I...can't."

Tears formed in Lexi's hazel eyes, and ran down her face. The darkness ate away at more of his vision.

"Didn'...say....goodbye."

"What's her name Gene? I'll write her for you." He thought he had told Lexi her name. Did she not hear him?

He grunted. "Lex."

"Yes, Gene?"

"No...not...you." His voice was growing weaker, and longer pauses were heard between each syllable. "Bo...Bo..."

His chest tightened even more, and Gene gasped, trying to get air into his lungs. He couldn't. It was too difficult. Gene exhaled one last time, thinking how much Lexi looked like Alex did when she tried to save his life in 1982. As his eyes closed, he knew. Alex and Lexi had to be the same person.

~(*)~

Lexi held on to Gene long after he went limp in her arms, long after he had exhaled his last breath, tears falling freely about her face. "I hope you find her Gene. Eventually, wherever you are, I hope you find her."

**To Be Continued**


	11. Waking the Fallen

**Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews! T t R, f p u w m, e w I w l t... (hahahaha) And now, the penultimate chapter!**

**Chapter 11: Waking the Fallen**

His father had finally succeeded. He had tried to kill Gene three times, and the third time, he had finally succeeded. His nightmare had finally come true. The funny thing was, Gene realised, was that his father had actually saved his life once. If he had not called to Gene that day in Italy, Gene would have been blown to bits.

But if Gene was dead, what was he still doing here? Why was his existence still hovering? Why wasn't he in hell yet? His eyes were unseeing, he could not hear anything, or feel anything. Maybe this was hell. Complete solitude in complete blackness for all of eternity. He could dwell on the fact that he should have been a better man, but Gene had dwelt on that often enough in life to really give it much consideration now. Still, if he had all eternity, what _was _he going to think about?

Gene knew the answer immediately. A brunette woman, with hazel eyes, with the education of a toff and the manners of a sewer rat. And the mind of a sewer sometimes, it seemed. She had come into his life when he was _ten_ and it took him nearly three years to realise that Alex was the same person. He could not blame himself for this, however. How many people expected the person that raised them as a ten year old to come back at the same age, thirty years later as a love interest? It was messed up, completely mad, Gene knew that easily. But he knew he was right.

Gene tried to imagine her voice.

"_Gene."_

Yes, that was it. He had gotten it spot on! Now if he could remember this for eternity, he would be happy.

"_Gene."_ Was he only going to imagine her saying his name? That was okay, but he'd like to hear more.

"_It's just a bloody stab wound. You're stronger than this."_

Aah. So now he was imagining what she had said to him in the hospital. So now he could feel guilty for dying on her.

He didn't feel like he was hovering anymore. In fact, it felt as though he was laying on something. His body was immensely heavy, it felt as though it had been packed in sand.

"_You want to wake up, I know you do."_ He did, but he couldn't! He was dead! Maybe he shouldn't imagine her voice. He should think of someone else. But that did no good. All he could think of now was Lexi, telling him to fight for Alex. Gene knew that he was going to be driven insane. This was the perfect version of hell for him.

There was the feeling of bed linens underneath his fingertips. Wait a second, he had fingertips? When did he get those back? He tried to move his fingers, but he couldn't. They were still packed in the sand, in the mud that the rest of his body seemed to be under.

"_Your eyes are moving Gene. I swear to God, if you wake up today, I will kiss you."_ He could hear relief in Alex's tone, and smiled to himself. Kiss her? He wouldn't mind that. Maybe he would try and wake up. Maybe he wasn't dead after all.

"_I see you smiling a bit. Maybe I should have offered a kiss two days ago. Then we wouldn't have had to go through all that nonsense of you trying to die on me."_

Gene knew that this couldn't just be his mind. He had to be alive! His mind would never allow Alex to say that she was going to kiss him.

Gene tried to open his eyes, but they seemed to be stuck shut. He could smell now, the sterile scent was clogging his nostrils. He had to be in a hospital.

Gene continued his fight against his eyelids as his body seemed to become less packed in sand. He felt a warm hand in his, thumb rubbing idly against the back of his hand. Gene tried to squeeze it, feeling as though he was making a monumental effort.

The thumb stopped against the back of his hand, and he felt a gentle squeeze back. "You're trying," her voice whispered. "Good. Now c'mon. Open your eyes."

God, she'd gotten bossy. Gene laughed to himself. She could boss him around for the next several years, and he wouldn't care. As long as he got to be with her.

Gene knew that he would eventually win the battle against his eyes, but they were being difficult. Alex murmured encouragement. There were other voices around her, but he paid them no mind. She was the only one he wished to hear. Her hand dropped from his, and her voice disappeared. Where had she gone?! Gene tried harder to open his eyes to see where she had gone. Eventually, they opened a crack, showing him blurred figures around the bed. He blinked and they came into focus. There were two doctors and a nurse at the bottom of his bed, all looking on with excited smiles. He looked around. There was no sign of Alex.

"Mr. Hunt. You gave us quite a scare there. We weren't convinced you were going to make it for a while. But, with the encouragement of Ms. Drake, you came back."

Gene didn't care. He just wanted to see Alex. "Where is she?" he asked quietly.

The doctor looked disconcerted by the fact that Gene didn't acknowledge any of what he said.

"Mr. Hunt, you shouldn't have visitors quite yet..."

"I want Bolly," he said firmly.

"Mr. Hunt."

"Now." He could not roar the command like he usually would, but his voice was such that the doctors scurried from the room. The nurse stayed, however, checking his medications, before also exiting as a tall brunette woman entered.

"Gene!" she exclaimed in delight. Realising the emotions on display, she quickly reigned herself in, changing her expression to mild happiness instead of extreme delight. "I tried to stay in here as you woke up but the bloody brilliant doctors decided that you couldn't have visitors while you were waking up."

"Bolly." It was a statement of acknowledgement, of thanks. He couldn't say any more, and Gene knew he'd never be able to express fully his appreciation for her calling him back to life.

"You bloody bastard!" she yelled. "You nearly died on me! More than once! They had no hope for you!"

Gene couldn't yell back, couldn't get angry at her. He just stared at her, drinking in her features, Lexi's features.

"Shaz, Chris and Ray have all been worried sick about you, Gene Hunt," she continued, hardly stopping for breath. "Bloody fool you are, charging a man with a knife! Don't you remember Shaz?! At least Chris and Ray didn't beat the bastard up like you let them do to Hollis. He's getting at least a ten stretch, if not more."

"Didn't know he had a knife," Gene mumbled. "He threatened you."

"And you had to pull out your superiority complex and tackle the man who held me hostage?" Gene knew that this was mostly out of relief that he was receiving such a bollocking, but he wished she could have waited until at least he was strong enough to fight back a little. Right now, he felt exhausted still and was having trouble stringing two words together.

"And then, you tried to die on me," she ranted. "TWICE, Gene. How bloody dare you! Can you imagine what CID would be like without you in charge?"

"Fought death, Bolls," he said, smiling softly. "Fought it like I usually do you." She stopped and stared at him.

"You heard me?"

"You heard me talking about Lexi." She stared at him, full of sudden understanding, finally silent. "Fought for you, Alex. Had to come back."

God, had he gone soft in the past six years? Why was he telling Alex how he felt? Deep inside, Gene knew. He had nearly lost Alex twice. Once was because she had nearly died, the other because he had nearly died. He couldn't wait anymore. He wouldn't wait anymore.

Suddenly, he became aware of a pain in his lower left leg. Gene reached down unthinkingly and gasped in surprise.

"What's wrong?" Alex asked.

"It's...it's there."

"What's there? And if you're being pervy..."

"My leg," he interrupted, not hearing her. "My leg is there."

"What do you mean? They don't amputate legs for a wound to the stomach."

"But...Six years! Six years, hobbling around on bloody crutches, when all the time I was here, leg intact!"

"Gene," Alex asked, confusion showing. "What are you talking about?"

"I was in the war...Italy, fighting, and my leg, it was amputated. I met my dad, Lex. And me. And..."

Comprehension was dawning on Alex's face. "There's no way," she said. "No bloody possible way. Gene Andrews?"

"Lexi."

"How? I held him in my arms. _He died in my arms!"_

"And Lexi died in mine," Gene whispered. _"You,_ Alex. _You _died in my arms."

"You were your father's partner? In the war?"

"No. I wasn't my father's partner. I was my dad's partner. He only became my father after the war. I was a bastard to you when I was younger. I'm sorry."

Alex just smiled. "You didn't know it was me. You were angry. I understand."

They stared at each other, as if seeing each other for the very first time.

"I have a question," Gene asked. "The man you were travelling with, from London, who was so far away?"

"That was you Gene. And your woman, that you talked about as you died."

"C'mon, Bolls. Think about it. 'What's her name?' 'Bo..Bo...'"

"Bolly," she finished. Suddenly, she started laughing.

"What?" Gene asked, annoyed.

"You admitted you liked my psychology! In the park!" She grinned widely at him.

"Did not," Gene pouted. "Anyway, Lex, you owe me something."

"What do you mean?"

"You said that if I woke up today, you'd kiss me," he smiled.

Alex looked at him, stunned. "You heard that?"

"You heard me talking about Lexi," he shot back.

"I was Lexi," she retorted. "I just didn't know how I died. Plus it wasn't too hard. I was awake for several minutes while you were jabbering on, too distracted to notice I was listening."

"Some psychiatrist you are. S'not a good way to describe your patients, Bolly."

"Psychologist, Gene Hunt, and you did know that at one point in your life."

"Oh! So now you're going to use this against me!"

Alex grinned at him. "Just as much as you use it against me."

"Well there is one thing I will use against you."

"What's that?"

"Your promise." Alex laughed.

"Yes. My promise. You aren't likely to let me forget, are you?!" Gene playfully shook his head no. "Well, fine, if you're going to be that way." Alex leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. She pulled back, and laughed. "I didn't say how, Gene, so don't give me that!"

"C'mere, woman," he growled. "I have something I want to tell you."

"Then tell me," she said, crossing her arms.

"No. Not with those vultures around," he said, waving in the direction of the curtain. Alex sighed and leaned in.

"What is it?"

Gene raised his head up, and met her mouth before she could protest. Her lips responded immediately, almost eagerly. Gene put his head back on the pillow, unable to keep it up any longer, but Alex continued the kiss. Finally they broke apart.

"Been wanting to do that since the day I met you. Shuts you up quite well," Gene commented. His eyelids were growing heavy. He had been up for a half hour already, and he knew that they probably had him on a massive amount of drugs at the moment.

Alex laughed at him, noting how tired he was becoming. "Go to sleep Gene."

"Only if you shut up long enough for me to sleep," he mumbled, already losing consciousness.

"Sleep well Gene," she murmured, as he slipped into the land of dreaming.

**One chapter left...**


	12. Epilogue

**A HUGE thank you to those of you who have read and reviewed, and a HUGE thank you to Rolephant, without whom, I would not be nearly as mad :P And now, the final chap!**

**Chapter 12: Epilogue**

_He was sitting by the river, just sitting, staring out across to the distant bank. His head rested on his knees, and the wind blew his fair hair everywhere, but he didn't care. It wasn't in his eyes, would never be long enough. _

_He heard footsteps behind him. Gene didn't turn, didn't look up as someone settled next to him. He listened to their quiet breathing for a moment before realising it was Lexi. He knew she would not break the silence between them, and he was fine with this. It was a silence of gentle understanding and mutual sorrow._

_The silence stretched on, and Gene heard the characteristic clack and thump of Gene Andrews approaching. With a groan and a sigh, he settled next to Gene. They all sat watching the river quietly._

_Finally, Gene broke the silence. "S'not fair. Everyone else, all my friends, they go' good dads 'oo came back from the war fine, an' I go' 'im."_

"_I thought that for a long time, Gene," Gene Andrews said. "But then I realised, finally, after coming here, that he may have called me a little shit, he may have nearly killed me several times, but he's not responsible for that."_

"_Wha' do yer mean? 'Ow is 'e not responsible? 'E did it ter yeh."_

"_The injury made your father unable to control his anger, Gene," Lexi explained. "Underneath all the layers of hate he built, he still loved you. And he hated himself for what he did to you. He'd turned out like his father. But he couldn't control it. So he drank out his anger. And then he beat you while he was drunk."_

"_Then 'e'd sober up, realise wha' 'e did, an' the cycle continued," Gene said bitterly. "An' it'll keep goin'."_

"_It doesn't have to, Gene." Lexi looked at him pointedly. Gene Andrews had his arm around her. "The cycle can end with you."_

"_Wha' do yer mean?"_

"_Show your kids that you love them," Gene Andrews said. "When you're near them, watch the amount you drink. And don't ever take your anger out on them. It'll make you hate yourself."_

"_Psycho-bollocks," he mumbled, smiling. _

"_End the cycle, Gene," Lexi said. "Forgive your father, and end the cycle."_

"_Forgive him?!" Lexi just looked at him. Gene Andrews stared down into the water. "'Ow can I do that?"_

"_You don't need me to answer everything, Gene Hunt," she said. "You know what you have to do."_

_Gene stared across the river once more, and the conversation silenced. He heard Gene Andrews get up and leave, and Lexi left just a few moments later. He continued to stare, seconds becoming minutes, minutes becoming hours. Still he didn't move. He continued to stare, to listen to the river rush past him._

"Gene?" Alex's voice startled him back into reality. "You've been sitting here all day. We need to get back to the hotel." Her voice was quiet and gentle, and he looked around, realising that at some point, day had transformed into night.

"What time is it?"

"Gone ten," she answered. "You've been sitting here for fourteen hours straight. You haven't even moved."

He stared at her, silvery blue eyes matching hazel. "It was like I had a flashback, but it never happened," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I saw Lexi and Gene...us...and they came and sat with me. They told me to forgive him, and end the cycle."

"End the cycle?"

Gene just smiled. "You know, Lex? I think I may be able to do that."

"End the cycle?"

"Forgive him."

"Who?"

"My father." Alex's jaw dropped slightly and she stared at him. "I can move on, Bolly. Be the father I should be to Adriana." He motioned to the sleeping figure in Alex's arms. "Be the father I should be to him," he said, rubbing her stomach.

She smiled at him. "You think you can?"

"I think...if I remember my dad...and not my father...Remember the man he was, not who he became. The hidden truth. I can move on."

Alex said nothing, merely smiled as his lips met hers. "Bolly?" he said.

"Yes, Gene?"

"Can we name it Max...if it's a boy?"

She pulled away and looked at him, a smile in her eyes. "Of course."

"We'll have Adriana Caroline and Maxwell..." He looked at her.

"Say it," she whispered.

"Maxwell Stuart Hunt." Alex jumped in surprise and laughed.

"Gene! He kicked! Right as you said the name!" Keeping a firm grasp of Adriana in one arm, she pulled his hand to her stomach with the other. Gene felt the kick of the heel against the palm of his hand. He grinned.

"I think he agrees, Lex. Maxwell Stuart Hunt." He said the name again, enjoying the ring of it, and feeling the baby within Alex's stomach kick harder.

"Then that's what it is."

Their laughter silenced as they stared out onto the black surface of the river.

"_Thank yeh, Gene."_

Gene turned, but no one was there. Alex looked at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said distantly.

He knew that voice. He had not heard it in over thirty years, but he could never forget it. Just as he never forgot his mother's voice, he now could not forget the laugh, the smile in his dad's voice.

"_I'm sorry, fer everything."_

"I forgive you, for everything," Gene murmured, amazed at the words falling from his lips. Alex seemed not to hear him, gently bouncing the sleeping Adriana on her hip, looking out onto the river.

And Gene knew that everything would be fine. He had forgiven his father. The cycle would end.

**Thank you again!**

**Rantandrumour  
**


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